


A Taste of Iron

by Troo



Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Parasitic Enhancement, Vampiric Qualities, pointy teeth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-08-31 01:04:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 47,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8556679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Troo/pseuds/Troo
Summary: Khadgar discovers a magical tool that could help the Alliance in the war against the Horde. The tables are turned and it is unleashed on Lothar instead. Will he survive the changes it brings?Set at the end of the Warcraft movie and beyond, with a few minor changes to established movie/game lore.The story will contain adult content and topics which I will attempt to alert readers to before they get to those sections and I am going to provide the ability to skip those chapters without losing any plot.





	1. Always Listen to Your Parents...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blink and you'll miss it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first 2 1/2 chapters are a little bit of slow setup and don't really have any of the characters that you may know and love, but after that you won't be able to get rid of them. :D

* * *

 

Philip’s parents hadn’t thought to warn him about things like this. If only they had. They’d warned him against almost everything else he’d been up to tonight. They’d tried to instill in him wisdom against gambling, drinking, and spending money on the women who kept him company for coin. Those lessons he never learned, he never wanted to. What they never got around to telling him was that he should always just leave the naked girl in the lake to her fate.

'Ain’t that just the way things go? I guess a good deed _doesn’t_ go unpunished…'

He isn’t allowed time to contemplate much of anything else as the dark threads that have pulled him down into the depths of the water start to squeeze. The breath he’d been holding onto is forced from his body, bringing the short and unproductive life of Philip “Blinky” McGiven to a soggy end.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. These notes are going to be longer than the chapter I just posted. No. I do not care. :)
> 
> I have never completed a real story in my life and technically I still haven't. I'm not going to count that one cross-over between 'Poltergeist: the Legacy' and 'Power Rangers' that I co-wrote with a friend from England back in the day. I am not a writer. I'm a reader.
> 
> I've forgotten more about how to form paragraphs and use commas and ellipses than I ever learned in school and I tend to follow the Stephen King writing method in that I write my sentences as I think them in my head. For that I will not apologize. Hopefully it doesn't make things hard to follow.
> 
> Boring backstory to this story: I've played World of Warcraft just one month short of the entire time it's been publicly available. Yet... I managed to get through those 12 years without really getting to know the stories and the lore of the world. I owned the Warcraft games from my youth, but only played them long enough to discover that I wasn't any good at them even when using the God-mode codes. All of that changed when the Warcraft movie came out earlier this year. I knew the names of the people on the screen, but I wouldn't have been able to tell you much of anything about them even though I've spent almost a fourth of my life with some of them. I saw the movie in theaters at least seven times and started delving into the lore websites. I fell in love with the characters that I had previously viewed as a means to an end in the WoW leveling process.
> 
> Unlike the people who had lived and breathed the lore before me, I am a lore noob. I am aware of this fact and will no doubt make mistakes. I have attempted to meld the lore from the movie and match it up to established game lore and have even added a few twists of my own when neither lore was quite perfect for what I needed. The characters I am working with are the movie versions. While doing lore research I discovered I liked the personalities of the movie versions a lot more than the game versions in most cases.
> 
> One morning a month or two after the movie hit theaters I woke up with a scene in my head. It would not leave me alone. This is the result. I still haven't managed to work that scene into this story and I probably never will. It was a good scene and it will be missed.
> 
> I'm currently sitting at 108 rough, rough draft pages of story that need major work before they are fit to be seen by anyone other than my beta readers. What you're seeing already posted (chapters 1-8) comes before the plot I actually had completed already. I do have an outline completed for the storyline I haven't completed yet, so I do know where this thing is going. I still don't even know if I'm going to be good enough at the actual writing process to make a product y'all are going to enjoy reading.
> 
> I've been avoiding reading any fanfictions that have any similarities in topics as my story does, which has been fairly easy until recently. As I'm starting to see some things pop up that do get closer to one of my major plot points, I figured now was a great time to hop in and stake my claim on my title and story spot. Thankfully I've been chugging along and have plenty of time to continue in my quest and should be able to keep posting rather regularly. Gonna try to post a chapter every 2-5 days.
> 
> If you've made it this far, I thank you for sticking with me! Woo! This is the part where I will touch on what this story will include. It's going to have stabbing. It's going to have death. It's going to have a vampiric theme to it in a way that seems to work in this world well enough. I can't write anything without somehow throwing vampire stuff in. *shrug* It's going to have naked adults doing naked adult things. I had meant to keep this to a PG-13 "and the camera pans away from their activities" rating, but these characters wrote their own stories and some of them are too good to leave out now. I will do my best to warn the audience before certain sorts of mature activities occur so that they can avoid them if they want to. I'm also going to try to provide the ability to skip the chapters with the mature content without losing important story information. Most of all, I'm just hoping that it has characters in it that are as close to their personalities as the actors portrayed them on screen. And that at least one person that isn't a beta reader likes it. :)
> 
> If you do read my story and have the inclination, I would really appreciate kudos and feedback/comments to let me know what's working for you and what just seems off.
> 
> And awaaaaaaay we go!


	2. A Good Night For a Swim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because the future is already set in stone doesn't mean she's not going to chisel in a few additions.

* * *

 

Hours earlier on the dark and moonlit night, the young woman had woken abruptly. As she lay in her comfortable bed, a look of wonder passed across her features.

It wasn't a dream that had pulled her from sleep, but one of the visions that her self-taught magic brought her from time to time. This particular vision showed her a scene unlike any she had ever witnessed with either her physical eyes or her mind's eye.

The fate of Azeroth's current future had intersected with the one person on the planet who would be able to change it... a girl in her second floor bedroom within the small village near a peaceful lake. The lake that is soon destined to be Philip's doom.

\-----

She had watched as an army of Humans arrived near a large, primitive, hostile encampment in front of a towering freestanding stone doorway to nowhere. She'd looked closer and had noticed that the beings residing in the camp were not like any she had ever seen before. Most were green in color and all were much larger and bulkier than any of the races that could be found on Azeroth. Large tusks and spikes seem to be attached to, sticking out of, or growing from just about every surface of these brutish invaders and their camp. She'd watched as the Humans charged into this green army, as the stone frame was filled with a brilliant green magic, and as more green warriors flowed out of the strange doorway.

A glint of silver caught her attention and her focus was pulled to the man in the shiny silver armor down in front of the portal. There was only one person that he could have been. She'd never met or seen the King of Stormwind before, but his armor and bearing proved his identity to her. Behind him, the green gateway faltered and failed briefly before flaring back to life with a blue tinted scene of a large city on the other side. With the change in the portal, green beings no longer joined the fight from wherever they were coming from and Humans began frantically racing through in the opposite direction.

She'd watched as the portal failed completely, trapping the King and the remaining Humans in a crowd of green. She'd seen a stunted female green warrior in Stormwind armor betray the King with a dagger and then a dark haired man in dark clothing and no shoes dropped out of the sky on a fantastical flying beast. He'd killed the warrior leader of the green fighters and then flown away with the body of the King.

\-----

That was where the vision had ended. Whatever it had tried to show her, whatever it was trying to warn her about, it would be found in that short glimpse into the future. Of this she was sure. She knew that the power that would be required to dig through the visions of alternate timelines surrounding what was shown to her would be far too great to wield inside of the village walls. She had to get away from the town.

 

* * *

 

Being the night before the weekly services, a good portion of her village is already in bed. The girl slides out from under the warm blankets on her bed, her feet contacting the floorboards that are still warm from the fireplace in the room just below hers. The smile on her face is the only thing she's wearing. As she starts moving towards the windows that look out over the village, she realizes her pale skin will make it much harder to make it out of town without being spotted. Despite her aversion to the way clothing feels against her skin, she retrieves dark colored pants and a shirt from her wardrobe and quickly dresses herself. An earthy brown hooded cloak follows to hide her easily recognizable hair and near translucent skin from anyone she will have to pass.

Once dressed, she makes her way to the one window in her room that still opens. Thanks to the time and care she's taken with it, it makes absolutely no sound as she slides the movable pane up and out of the way. After checking to make sure that no one is around to observe her exit, she climbs out onto the overhang below and then down to the ground. She quickly makes her way out of the town and into the woods, managing to remain completely unseen the whole time.

\-----

The young woman makes her way through the trees, forging her own path to the nearby swimming hole. As she steps into the clearing around the large pond, she removes her cloak, letting it drop to the ground near the edge of the water. She hadn't bothered with footwear so she is quickly naked once again, her clothing tossed near where her cloak lies.

She dips the toes of her right foot into the water and finds that it has remained pleasantly warm from the day's sunlight, despite the coolness of the night. Continuing onward, she wades into the pond. Once she can no longer touch the bottom, she swims to the center and turns over to float on her back. The water holds so much life, so much potential power for her to use. She reaches out with her strange magic, pulling power from the life in the water and from the plants that draw nourishment from the lake. As the power flows into her, empowering her to access the visions at will, dead fish begin floating to the surface of the lake and the grass at the edge of the water starts turning brown. The water muffling the sounds around her, she closes her eyes and drifts into another version of the future that she had seen.

One vision after another, more after that. Her intention is to go through as many versions as needed to find one with a positive outcome. Always starting at the point where the Humans arrive near the portal and traveling past the events of the vision she’d had in her room. They all end in her death. She sees herself die in many futures, in many ways, but always in her awful village and always on the night that a dark haired monster comes to town.

She’s about to give up for the night, her power running low with no more life around her to use, when a man’s voice calls out from the distance.

“Hang on lady, I’ll save you!”

Despite the sound deadening effects of the water around her ears, she hears him splash into the water and head her way. Pulling herself from the vision she is currently viewing, she turns over so that she is facing him and calls back to him, “Thank you sir, but I’m not the one that needs saving.”

She brings an arm out of the water and places her hand upon its surface. As her skin meets the water, black tendrils of magic leech into the water and head towards the helpful fellow.

The bright moonlight lets him see them coming for him. He tries to turn around, to get back to the safety of the shore, but he stands no chance. The magic flows around him, surrounding him, binding him tightly. He doesn’t make a sound as it pulls him below the surface and steals the power of the life it squeezes out of him.

‘It was so nice of him to bring me more,' she thinks to herself. With the added power, she can stay out in the lake all night, and she does.

\-----

Drifting through countless futures, she is unable to find one with an acceptable outcome. A few show signs of ending well, but something always goes wrong. The girl starts to lose hope that she will find a future where she survives.

Then, shortly before the sky begins to lighten for the day, a vision shows her everything she could have ever hoped for. It shows her walking out of the rubble of her town with a powerful and handsome companion, and then walking into a giant city full of people cheering for her, appreciating her. Fame, power, prestige… life.

Now that she has found her hope, she travels back and forth through the vision, looking for the moment this alternate future splits from the current timeline. When she spots the difference she can’t help but giggle. Such a small thing. Such an easy thing to manipulate.

Secure in the knowledge of how to save herself, she swims back to the shore and dries herself with her cloak. Clothing is quickly donned and she hurries back to and through the gates of the town walls, up to her window and into her room before the village wakes up. The only person to have witnessed her excursion is currently tangled in dead weeds in a dead lake and will not be discovered for almost a week. He won’t be telling anyone anything at that point.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite having most of the outline and plot for my story planned out, I hadn't gotten around to writing the beginning until yesterday. Oops.
> 
> An idea from one of my beta readers finally allowed me to go back and rectify this problem. Praise the gourds.
> 
> I still don't know how to write, I still don't know how to break things up into paragraphs properly, I like to use a lot of the same words over and over again in sections. This is just how my brain gets the story out.


	3. What was Dead...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her planning pays off. A timeline altered. The future changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel a bit better about this chapter than the last one. I really rushed the last one. Maybe one day I'll go back and smooth it out a bit.
> 
> Finally. Recognizable characters!

* * *

 

A few years pass. The girl continues to live her life in the walled village that sits where two roads meet. Most of her days are spent as they had been before the vision of her death. She wakes in the morning and waits for one of the short periods of time each day that begin with the sound of the locks on her bedroom door clicking open, one after another. Her parents let her out into the inn they own for a quick meal and a visit to the facilities. Then they escort her straight back to her room. The sound of the locks re-engaging signaling the beginning of the parts of the day where she is free.

Free to study, free to learn, free to hone her magical skills with no interruptions or judgment. The prison that she hates so much is also her best opportunity to ensure that she's prepared and skilled enough when the time comes.

Her days are spent teaching herself from the books of magic and alchemy that were gifted to her by a stranger shortly before she came into her powers at the age of seven. She never caught his name, but she could tell he was incredibly powerful. The books teach her wondrous and awful things. Spells for destruction, spells for controlling, spells for almost any need she might have. She learns.

What skills she foresees needing that the books do not teach, she asks her mother or father to teach her. They're always a bit surprised when she suddenly shows interest in mundane life skills and always do what they can to answer her questions. It makes them feel less guilty about what they've done to their daughter. Little do they know they are contributing to their own deaths with the knowledge they pass along.

Her nights are where she can truly be herself. Her parents had tried sealing all of the windows in her room so she couldn't get out, and they thought they'd succeeded. They hadn't done quite as complete a job on one pane as the others and she had slowly managed to pry it open. With hours of work put into the task, she then made sure that the window would never betray her with a noise.

While the locks on her door are her path to knowledge, this window is her gateway to putting what she has learned into practice. It allows her to hone her thievery and magical skills. Whenever she feels like working on what she has only read about, or if she needs supplies that her parents can't provide, she slips out after dark. Sneaking into shops, barns, and homes, she takes what she needs a little bit at a time so the loss is barely noticed. Wandering into the fields and forests and testing out new spells, using magic that she can't use in the confines of her bedroom walls. Visiting the village's weaponsmith’s shop every night for over a month after hearing the news that he'd been chosen to make the Queen a dagger for her birthday. Setting the first major part of her plan to change her fate into motion with a simple set of spells worked into the weapon on the night she finds it lying unguarded on his workbench.

Other girls her age are married, either by choice or by arrangement. She can't imagine being tied to a man who would make her cook, clean, sew, or any of the other things that go along with marriage. While her parents seem to get along rather well, she's seen how a lot of wedded women are treated in these farmland villages and she has no desire to live that life. The locks on her door provide housing, food, clothing, warmth, and all the free time she could ever ask for. If only they weren't there to hide her talents from the world and to protect her parents from what they see as a shame upon their name.

Despite being in a situation most would not be able to endure, she never runs away. It would be easy to do so and she's thought about it many times. Once she made it as far as the Whitney farm a few miles outside of town before turning around and going home. If she leaves, the future from her vision will never come to pass. So she tolerates this town a little while longer.

 

* * *

 

While the young woman plots, schemes, and prepares over the years, the rest of Azeroth moves along its intended course.

The Orcs crawl out of the portal in the murky water in the Black Morass and begin their march across the land. They work on constructing the stone portal on this planet to reconnect them to their own and their war with the Alliance begins.

Garona is welcomed by the Humans of Stormwind.

Durotan is betrayed by Orgrim while betraying Gul'dan at the foot of Blackrock Mountain.

The tainted Guardian falters in the defense of his people and Callan dies.

Garona comforts Lothar. He falls in love with her and she, him.

The one point in the future that the girl's plans balance upon comes ever closer as Lothar is locked in a cell and Medivh leads the Human forces into a deadly trap.

Khadgar frees Lothar and they travel to Karazhan where they halt Sargeras' plans by ending Medivh's life.

The moment where everything changes finally arrives.

 

* * *

 

The portal from Draenor has failed. The portal to Stormwind has taken its place. Human prisoners are fleeing to the safety of the city, protected by the soldiers as they do so.

The magic that the girl wove into the dagger that Garona now wields was activated the first time Garona touched the gift from Lady Taria. The subtle spells have been working on Garona's subconscious since that moment and have been waiting for this moment to fulfill their purpose.

So when Garona tells the King that they should go through the portal to safety and he tells her they need to help their people through first, and then she pushes a random child into Karos' arms and shoves him through to Stormwind, she doesn't realize the idea is not her own.

She doesn't know that as she's driving the dagger down into Llane's neck, her arm pulls slightly to the side of its own accord, following whispered commands she doesn't hear. A fatal strike missed by a mere twitch. She believes she has killed him as he requested.

Garona supports King Wrynn's body as he collapses to the ground in front of her. She knows that she should make her way to the waiting Horde to appear unaffected by the death of her friend, that what she does next could cost all the progress she just made with his death, but the girl's spells are not quite through with her yet.

The Orcs move forward to claim the dead king's body, to celebrate his defeat, to destroy him. Garona bends down and slides Llane's sword out of its scabbard and protectively warns them away with it. Gul'dan steps forward out of the mass of Orcs and commands her to get out of the way, telling her to come to him with an outstretched hand.

The spells have done their work. Extra time has been bought, Llane's death has been averted. Garona lowers the sword, dropping it near their Warchief as she passes him on her way towards Gul'dan. The one thing that she's wanted her whole life, hearing Gul'dan announce she is welcomed as an Orc, now has a bitter sting to it that stabs at her heart. She fights tears as she reaches up and takes his hand in acceptance.

As she does so, Orcs begin to advance towards Llane's body again. The interrupting cry of a great bird draws everyone's attention to the sky. Llane is forgotten as Anduin Lothar arrives on the gryphon. Beast and man crash into the crowd. Between his skills with a sword and the beast's sharp natural weapons, enough space is cleared around Llane's body to allow Lothar to discover Garona's treachery before loading Llane onto the gryphon and making an escape.

The changes to the timeline are contained to Garona's actions, leaving the rest of this event to play out as it originally did in the girl's first vision.

A hand reaches into the air, pulling the gryphon to the earth, thwarting Lothar's escape.

Lothar regains consciousness and the Orc's Warchief challenges him to Mak'gora while throwing Llane's sword to him.

Lothar gets his revenge on Blackhand for the slaughter of his son with his victory in the duel of honor. Blackhand's death also earns him the respect of the Orcs which allows him to gather the King's body and sword onto the gryphon again and take flight. He makes eye contact with Garona as he flies over the crowd, saying goodbye.

What occurs next is the culmination of all of the girl's planning and work over the years since the night she killed the man in the lake.

 

* * *

 

A storm of emotion swirls around inside of Lothar as he leaves the Black Morass on gryphon-back. His king and best friend dead. The woman that he loves is responsible. His other childhood friend dead by his actions. It's only a small relief knowing Callan's death was repaid.

His destination is Stormwind. He needs to bring the King's body home and let the kingdom know what has happened this day. His course takes him over the mountains that separate the Black Morass and Deadwind Pass and as the gryphon flies above the decimation that spreads outwards from Karazhan he swears he feels Llane breathe.

With no way to check for life while riding through the sky, he directs the gryphon to head towards Karazhan instead. The beast quickly covers the distance to the tower they left not too long ago and Lothar has it fly him by the broken window in the upper part of the tower that he almost fell out of earlier.

As they pass by, he shouts for Khadgar, hoping the mage is still there. They circle the tower and the opening in the wall appears in front of him again. Khadgar pokes his head out of the gap. The gryphon slows and flies in closer.

“Meet me at the base of the tower, now!” he yells at his young friend and then directs the gryphon down to a safe landing spot near where Khadgar first met Moroes.

Lothar carefully dismounts, pulling Llane off with him. He gently lays his friend down on the marble surface so that the dagger handle sticks into the air. The warrior kneels behind the King, checking for signs of life. Impossibly, they're there. Lothar can feel a pulse so weak he misses it at first. Llane's chest moves almost imperceptibly, but it does. He knows Llane's chances of survival are lessening every moment and that they need to get him to the healers in Stormwind immediately to save him. If he still can be saved.

Thankfully, Khadgar appears in the doorway of the tower and hurries over.

“We need a portal to Stormwind, now! Please.” Lothar's first words commanding, his last word begging.

After absorbing the sight of the direly injured Llane, Khadgar looks around desperately for anything he can use to form the runes to make the portal. There is nothing and the marble is too hard to scratch the designs in with a blade. “I need to get something to draw the runes with, I'll be right back.” He stands and turns to head back to the tower.

Lothar's voice calls him back, “There is no time. Here...”

Khadgar watches as Lothar leans over Llane and pulls a small knife from the King's belt.

The knife cuts through the laces of the leather bracer on Lothar's left arm with ease. He pulls the bracer off and slides the blade into the wrist of his coat sleeve. Without difficulty, Lothar pulls the sharp blade through the sleeve of his coat, not stopping until it has passed his elbow. He then pulls the sleeve of his linen shirt up and out of the way, allowing access to his forearm.

The young mage winces as he watches Lothar drag the blade through the skin along his own inner arm, not that far from his wrist, slicing deeply. Blood immediately wells to the surface and begins to flow freely from the deep cut. Across his hand, down his fingers, running onto the stone underneath.

Khadgar hurries over and places his hand in the warm puddle, coating his fingers with Lothar's blood. He tries not to think about what is covering his skin as he uses it to draw the runes around them. It's not the most efficient medium he's ever used for this task and he has to return for more a few times to complete his work. The first time he does so he worries out loud that with as rapidly as the pool is forming beneath his friend's fingers, that he may have cut a little too deeply.

“Just get us there and they can fix it,” Lothar growls impatiently at him.

While watching Khadgar smear the blood in specific patterns all around them, Lothar concludes that Khadgar is right. He did do far more damage to himself than he intended to. He's starting to feel a bit lightheaded and shaky from the blood loss and the rest of his injuries from the day, 'That really is a lot of blood,' and realizes he can't move the three middle fingers on that hand. He drops the knife he hadn't realized he was still holding, and clumsily removes his belt using only his right hand.

He's attempting to tighten his belt around his arm, just above his elbow, when the magic begins to build around them. His vision is starting to gray around the edges as Khadgar bends down to pull the spell's focus from the center of the runes.

The portal forms and pulls them out of existence in Karazhan, leaving the gryphon behind, and drops them into the throne room of Stormwind.

 

* * *

 

There is only a skeleton crew manning the area of the Keep that they appear in. Most of the forces that remain in the city have gone to defend against possible invasion from the large portal that appeared just outside of the city's walls and began spewing forth escaping Humans.

As the magic of the portal fades, Khadgar sees they made it safely, but that there is no one in sight to help them. He is just about to head down a hallway to look for help when Lothar topples over. The sound of his body hitting the stone floor turns Khadgar around. Lothar hadn't managed to secure the tourniquet before they ported and as he lands on his right side his fingers release the belt, letting the blood flow freely again.

Khadgar starts yelling for help as he rushes around behind Lothar, grabbing the end of the belt that Lothar had dropped. He pulls the belt as tightly around the arm as he can while keeping the injury elevated. The bleeding slows and finally comes to a stop. He yells again.

A man and a woman rush into the room, having heard his cries for help. They are quite surprised by what they discover upon entry.

Khadgar yells at them, “Get a healer! We need a healer!” The maid turns and rushes out of the room to follow his orders. The royal guard that came into the room just before the maid heads towards Llane but Khadgar calls him over to Lothar's side instead and has him take over maintaining the pressure around Lothar's raised arm. He then moves to Llane's side and checks carefully to see if he is alive.

Only minutes pass before two female healers rush into the room and move to the unconscious men. The woman who is examining Llane immediately barks an order to the guard that is still holding onto the end of the belt, “We are going to need more healers. Find any you can and send them to the infirmary. Send us more men here as well. Now!”

The healer kneeling behind Lothar nods to the guard and reaches for the belt he is holding so that he can do as the first healer instructed. The guard stands and races from the room, his armor making quite the racket as he goes.

Lothar's healer skillfully works the belt into a highly functional tourniquet that doesn't need anyone holding onto it and then lays his arm along his side so that she can use both hands to get a good look at the injury. She can tell that he's already lost quite a bit of blood as his body is showing signs of shock. His skin is pale, cool, and a bit clammy to the touch. His breathing is shallow and faster than it should be.

As she is gently probing the cut to see how bad the damage is, Lothar regains semi-consciousness and tries to pull his arm away from the pain her touch is causing. She stops her examination and tells him to hold still, that she's just trying to help. He doesn't seem to hear her and continues weakly trying to pull his arm out of her grasp. “A little help here?” she asks of Khadgar, who is uselessly hovering near Llane's healer.

Before Khadgar can respond, Lady Taria rushes into the room. She'd been alerted to what is going on by the guard as he loudly rushed through the Keep on his mission to find more healers. The sight of her husband and her brother both lying injured on the floor is a shock that freezes her in place for a moment. As it wears off, she doesn't even choose, her feet are already carrying her to Llane's side.

“What is wrong…?” is all Taria manages to say before her eyes find the handle of her dagger jutting out of his neck. Her question ends in a loud gasp. “Why aren't you doing anything?!” she demands of the healer at Llane's side as she drops to her knees beside her. She is terrified that the healer isn't doing anything because there is nothing that can be done.

As more people sent by the guard enter the room, the woman starts to explain to Taria that she can do nothing safely until they get him to the infirmary and have more healers available. That her skills alone would do nothing but kill the King if she were to try on her own. While she discusses the details of what needs to be done with Taria, Khadgar moves from Llane's side to kneel next to the healer behind Lothar.

“I need you to make him stop moving. I can't complete the spell that will repair the damage with him struggling like this,” she explains to Khadgar.

Unsure of how best to do as the healer has asked, he places his left hand on Lothar's shoulder, leans over him, and starts talking to him. “Lothar.. hey.. it's Khadgar. We're safe, we made it.” Lothar's head turns back towards him ever so slightly at the comforting words. “I need you to relax. Llane is being cared for, you got him here in time.” As the assurance sinks in, Khadgar can feel Lothar's body begin to relax under his hand. “Just rest. The healer is going to fix your arm and when you wake up everybody will be okay.”

Lothar's head sinks back to the floor and his eyes close, Khadgar's words convincing him it's okay to stop fighting. “Thank you,” the healer says to Khadgar before beginning the incantation for the spell that will knit the damaged arteries, nerves, and flesh back together. He watches with fascination as the healing process works on Lothar's arm.

\-----

Taria can see the magical yellow glow coming from her brother's healer as she looks over to the small group of people who have arrived and are waiting around for instructions. She calls them over. Llane's healer instructs them on the best way to pick Llane up and then carry him without injuring him further. Most of them get to work following her orders and quickly have the King on his way out of the throne room and heading towards the infirmary. A few stay behind to help take Lothar there as soon as the healer is done working on him. As her husband is carried from the room, Taria follows. She pauses in the doorway for one last look at her brother before turning and following Llane.

 

* * *

 


	4. How to Save a Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will the healers be able to save Llane?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, as well as all of the rest of them, brought to you by the Mad Max: Fury Road extended soundtrack on loop. It is excellent music to write to.
> 
> I'm having the most amazing time with this. Today's chapter started out as one tiny paragraph of an idea. It's rather cool to take it from that to this. I think I may have a new life-sucking hobby on my hands.

* * *

 

The news spreads quickly through the city. Any healer that is not helping with the wounded from the Black Morass is required to immediately report to the infirmary in Stormwind Keep. No details are provided.

\-----

By the time the small procession carrying Llane through the hallways makes it to the infirmary, three healers have arrived. By the time he is placed face down upon a sturdy cot at his initial healer's instruction, four more have added to their number. Sybil, the woman who has taken charge of saving Llane, recognizes most of the new arrivals and beckons them all over while shooing away the non-medical help. She explains what is going to be needed of them over the next few days while she quickly works at removing Llane's armor, trying not to move him while doing so. The years spent working on injured soldiers have given her far too much practice and her fingers find all of the fastenings with quick proficiency. None of the gathered healers object to the task ahead of them and most of them already know all of spells and skills that Sybil asks about. His armor is removed and carried out of the way by a few of the healers, the clothing layers underneath cut open and away to give them access to his injury.

Taria can only watch from her seat on the next cot as these seven random people are molded into the team that is going to try to save her husband. She worries that they are taking too long to do whatever it is they're going to do as it has already been a bit of time since he was stabbed and no progress has been made. The explanation she was given was that the dagger struck in the most perfect way possible, sticking into bone that held it in place, preventing it from moving around and doing more damage. The blade narrowly missing all the major blood vessels in the area. The hope is that it didn't do irreparable damage to his spinal column. She trusts Sybil, but she just wants to scream at them to hurry up and do something.

As if hearing her mental berating, the group springs into action. Some get water, towels, and other medical supplies, while one goes to fetch healing potions from the potion cabinet. The two that remain with Sybil are given instructions on exactly how the next few minutes will go. They are briefed and ready to do their jobs by the time the others have returned.

“Now remember, you _must_ pull it out as perfectly as you can. You do not want to cause any more damage than has already been done,” Sybil directs the young man who has been tasked with removing the blade. To his credit, his hand is steady as he reaches for the dagger, despite his nerves. His fingers wrap around the handle and he waits for the signal from Sybil. Once she is sure that the woman who is to be her partner in spell-casting is ready, she tells him to do it.

The dagger doesn't want to do this the easy way. He has to use both hands to wiggle it carefully to get it loose from the bone it was driven into. Praying to the Light the whole time that he doesn't do more harm than good, he pulls. His strong and steady hands are successful. He slides the blade out of Llane's neck with the precision of a healer twice his age and experience. The moment the weapon is free from Llane's flesh, he steps out of the way. Sybil and her partner go to work. Brilliant runes of yellow and white flow around their hands as they begin the delicate spell-work that will hopefully repair the damage and save his mobility. The rest of the healers watch, learn, and help out whenever they are needed.

The young man backs away from Llane's cot and ends up standing a bit to Taria's right. She reaches out and touches his left hand to get his attention and when he turns to look at her, she wraps her fingers around the dagger in his hand. He lets her pull it from his fingers and watches as she looks it over and then sets it down on her lap, her right hand holding the handle tightly. Her husband's blood transferring onto her light colored dress where the blade rests. They both return to watching the healers work.

 

* * *

 

Khadgar closely follows the young woman who is right behind the two men carrying Lothar into the infirmary. As the mage makes it into the room, his eyes are drawn to the small crowd gathered around the only other patient there. The fact they're still working on Llane proves the voice in his head wrong that has been muttering over and over that they were too late, that Llane is dead. Relief washes through him at the sight. While the men carry Lothar to the open cot behind Taria, Khadgar walks around end of the one she is resting on and sits down beside her, opposite the male healer.

“How is he?” he asks her when she doesn't acknowledge his presence.

“Alive. That is all I know,” Taria replies. Her gaze remaining locked upon Llane.

Khadgar notices the dagger in her lap and finally sees that it is the same one she had given to Garona. He'd been too busy with other things to have noticed this detail before. 'She must have had a reason…' He can't believe that Garona would have betrayed Llane, but he just can't comprehend why should would have done this.

Unsure of how to help Taria, he turns to see if he can be of any use to the girl working on Lothar.

Hannah. That was the name she'd given him when he had asked. The men who had carried him in are nowhere to be seen and she is struggling to pull the coat off of his unconscious form. Khadgar stands up and moves to help her. Together they manage to strip it off of him without trouble and he notices that she's removed the belt from Lothar's arm.

“Thank you again sir.”

“Khadgar. My name is Khadgar.”

She nods with a slight smile. “Well, Khadgar. Could I talk you into fetching me a few of the smaller health potions from that cabinet over there? And a blanket or two from that stack on your way back?” She points to both destinations as she begins a more in-depth inspection of all of the injuries Lothar had received throughout the day.

“Certainly. I will be right back.” He gathers everything she asked for, having only a little difficulty finding the correct potions in the crowded cabinet. As he returns with the items, she has pulled Lothar's shirt up and is inspecting the dark bruising on his chest.

“What did this?” she asks as she takes the potions from Khadgar.

“Would you believe me if I told you he was nearly squeezed to death by a giant magical fist?”

Her eyebrow raises questioningly. “I don't know you well enough to know if you are joking or not.”

“If I hadn't interrupted, it would have crushed him with his own armor.”

Hannah pauses at his words just as she was about to start pouring one of the potions into Lothar's mouth, his head supported by her hand not holding the vial. “I think it is safe to say that the two of you have had a much more interesting day than I have.” She places the potion against Lothar's lower lip and slowly pours the contents into his mouth, making sure he doesn't choke on the liquid.

“I don't think I've had a boring day since I met him.” Khadgar watches her lay Lothar's head back onto the pillow and set the empty potion on the small table near the head of the cot.

She turns back towards Khadgar and extends a hand towards him, silently requesting one of the blankets he is holding in his arms. It takes him a second to figure out what she's asking. “Oh, right.” He sets one of the blankets on the cot behind him and unfolds the other, handing a corner across the bed to Hannah. They spread the blanket out across Lothar's body and Hannah tucks it under his left arm so that she can check on the progress of her healing spells more easily.

“There's not really much more we can do for now except let him sleep. The potion should help his system replace the blood that he lost and take care of his minor injuries as well as finish the healing to his arm.” She turns to Khadgar from inspecting Lothar's arm. “I was supposed to be home an hour ago and my father is going to be upset with me for being late. Would you be willing to watch over my patient until I return? He can have another potion in a few hours if he wakes up before I make it back.”

Khadgar assures her he will do as she has requested and watches as she gathers her belongings and hurries out of the infirmary. Once she is gone, he retrieves a chair from the other side of the room and places it between Lothar and the cot that Taria is sitting on. He settles into it and turns his head to watch the proceedings around Llane.

Unlike the simple spells Hannah used to repair the damage to Lothar's arm, the intricate magics they are using on Llane will take days to fully complete. The team of healers will work in shifts over these next days and most of the extra healers have gone home to get some sleep before they need to return for their shifts. Sybil and the remaining healers take turns weaving healing into Llane, the dancing runes of their spells quickly lulling Khadgar to sleep, his body exhausted from the events of the day.

 

* * *

 

 


	5. No Pain, No Gain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lothar deals with a little physical therapy.
> 
> One attempted crude gesture included.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first attempt at a majority of dialogue.

* * *

 

Cramping neck muscles pull Khadgar back into the world. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the uncomfortable infirmary chair knowing this would be the outcome, but it had happened anyway. As he stretches his neck and shoulder muscles, trying to work out the knots, he sees that nothing appears to have changed with Llane. The first group of healers is still working on him and Taria is still watching from her seat on the next cot. Sybil is sitting next to Taria, talking to her quietly, and Khadgar cannot make out what the conversation is about.

The feeling of being watched has Khadgar turning to check on Lothar. Sure enough, Lothar’s eyes are open slightly and are tiredly focused on him. “Hey. What are you doing awake already?”

“Can’t sleep,” Lothar quietly replies.

“I can get a sleeping potion for you. Your body needs the rest right now.”

The look of disgust on Lothar’s face is followed by words Khadgar can barely hear, “Hate those things. …give me bad dreams.”

“Maybe some herbal tea?” Another no from Lothar. “I could read you a bedtime story,” Khadgar jokes. Lothar replies with a roll of his eyes. “No? You’re missing out. Your sister told me I put Varian to sleep in record time the other night.”

With a playful smile Lothar asks, “Are you sure he didn’t just close his eyes to get you to stop?”

“Just for that, I’m going to tell you two stories.”

“Light have mercy. I think I’d prefer the potion.”

Khadgar feigns indignation. “Your words wound me, good sir.”

“Not as much as my fingers around your neck will if you keep going.”

“What is this I hear? Our patient has recovered enough to threaten violence upon the man who saved his life?” Sybil interrupts as she walks around the foot of the cot and approaches Lothar’s injured arm.

“He was promising to do cruel and inhumane things to me. I stand by my threats. Well.. lie by them anyway.”

Sybil reaches for his left hand as she replies, “Well then, we’ll just have to make sure your fingers are capable of backing up your words. This is going to hurt.”

She lifts his arm with her right hand and takes hold of his fingers with her left. Before he can ask her what she is doing, she straightens his curled fingers out as much as the healed tendons in his arm will allow.

Lothar tries to pull his hand free as he sucks in a breath through gritted teeth at the sudden pain. She doesn’t let go. “We need to make sure your arm heals correctly so you don’t lose the full use of your fingers. Spells and potions are only part of the process.” Once he relaxes and allows her to continue, she starts manipulating his fingers, loosening up the muscles and tendons, making sure they move smoothly.

“I seem to have slept through the introductions. As I missed your name, may I call you 'The Evil One'?” he asks before one particularly painful movement causes him to grimace.

“Most people do,” she replies with a grin. She continues working with his arm. “The name is Sybil.”

“Wait. No.. I think we have met before.” Sybil raises an eyebrow. “Wasn't that you who answered the call for an 'Information Retrieval Specialist' last year when we had the Troll locked in the Barracks?”

He earns another raised eyebrow, a silently mouthed, “No,” and a slow shake of her head.

“The similarities are astonishing.”

“They didn't warn me the Lion of Azeroth was such a comedian.”

“It's how I handle torture.”

Khadgar interjects, “I think sarcasm is the native tongue where he comes from.”

Before Lothar can reply, Sybil lays his arm down at his side and tells him to keep moving his fingers regularly to help prevent another visit from her. “The wise woman who trained me always said, 'Move 'em or lose 'em.'”

As she starts to walk away, Lothar holds up his hand and wiggles his less than responsive fingers at her as best he can. She gives him a cheerful smile and a parting verbal jab. “Looks like I'll be seeing you again soon.”

Lothar brings his hand down in front of him and focuses on trying to get one finger in particular to respond to his mental commands before Sybil gets out of range, but he has only minimal success.

“I like her,” Khadgar cheerfully says to Lothar as she departs. Lothar just glares at him.

Lothar rolls onto his right side on the cot, “I'll remember that the next time you're stuck in here.” His sore muscles protest against the movement and Khadgar sees the pain flash across his face.

“Hannah said you could have another health potion before she left. You look like that might not be a bad idea.”

“I wouldn't turn one down.”

Khadgar looks to the table where Hannah left the extra health potions that he had brought to her, only to discover they appear to have disappeared while he was asleep. “Looks like I'll have to go find one for you. Give me a few minutes.” Khadgar stands with the intention of making his way back to the potion cabinet and is interrupted by Taria's voice.

“Let me get it.”

Unbeknownst to Khadgar, Lothar's sister had pulled herself away from her vigil for Llane shortly after Sybil returned to the King's side.

Khadgar thanks her and returns to his seat. A few minutes later Taria returns with a small red potion and steps up beside Khadgar. She holds the vial out to Lothar, who takes it from her with his right hand.

“Thank you,” Lothar says just before pouring the liquid into his mouth. She nods to him, the tiniest of smiles pulling at the corner of her mouth.

Khadgar takes the empty bottle from Lothar and turns to Taria, “You should try to get some rest. I'll wake you up if anything changes.”

“I couldn't sleep even if I wanted to. After the day you two have had, I suspect you could benefit from a few hours of sleep yourself. Will you listen to the suggestion of your Queen, or do I need to drug you like I just did my brother?”

He turns to look at Lothar. Khadgar watches as her words sink in alongside the effects of the sleeping potion she had mixed into what he just swallowed. As Lothar struggles to keep his eyes open, Khadgar thinks he can see a little bit of panic in them. In a matter of seconds, Lothar loses the fight, his eyes close, and his breathing calms.

“I think I'll try it without the help,” he says to Taria while standing up. “He's going to be mad at you when he wakes up.”

“He's forgiven me for worse. Sleep well Khadgar.” She turns and walks back around to her seat on the cot, settling in to wait for progress.

Khadgar retrieves a pillow and blanket for himself from the stack against the wall and makes himself comfortable on the cot on the other side of Lothar's. He's asleep before his eyes have fully closed.

 

* * *

 


	6. Dream a Little Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lothar was right about the nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't watched the extended/deleted scenes attached to the Warcraft movie discs, part of this chapter might seem a little disjointed and out of place as a particular scene in a particular bar with two specific characters is alluded to.
> 
> Minor adult activities kinda/sorta/almost referenced.
> 
> A few words included that some might find slightly (c)rude.

* * *

 

Lothar opens his eyes to discover that he is lying on his back on the thick oak bar in the Lion's Pride Inn, an empty tankard hanging from his fingers. The world spins slightly from all of the ale he has had to drink. Movement to his left. Garona. He's been here in this moment before and he knows she will come to him, that he will tell her she’s done nothing that needs forgiving, that she will understand his pain, his grief…. him… like no one ever has before.

He welcomes her first punch and eagerly anticipates the sorrow-drowning pain that her fist to his ribs will bring. The heated violence that leads to her being pinned beneath him on the table is replaced with a different kind of heat. Reading the look in her eyes as permission, he reaches for the ties at the front of her leather shirt. Her mouth rushing up to meet his. The world tilts. He’s falling. The hard floor underneath pulls him back to stability. Garona is there, her body a solid weight on top of him. ‘This isn’t what happened…’

A familiar voice from across the room calls to him. “…your fault.”

Lothar pulls away from Garona’s lips and turns his head to find his son standing near the door. “Callan?” His subconscious knows that his son is dead and Lothar struggles to reconcile how he’s suddenly here, in a time he never was before.

“If only you’d tried harder. If you hadn’t given up. If you had kept me by your side…” the sound of Callan’s voice fades out even though his lips keep moving. Blood begins pouring out of the holes Blackhand’s claws had made, dripping onto the wooden floor. His voice returns, “…wouldn’t have died. This is all your fault.”

“He’s right, you know.” Another familiar voice from beyond the grave drifts through the air.

Garona’s insistent hands bring his focus back to her as she pulls his mouth to hers again. Lothar can’t figure out why she’s continuing as though his dead son isn’t standing right there, watching, blaming him for his death.

“You should have seen that there was something different, something wrong. The signs were there. You just didn’t want to believe them.”

‘Medivh!’ Lothar manages to pull his head free from Garona’s disturbing attention and turns to find the Guardian sitting on one of the benches nearby, leaning back against the table behind him. His appearance continually shifting. The demonic overtaking his usual appearance and then receding before returning again.

His friend continues to place the responsibility of their deaths upon him. “If you had come to visit, if you’d taken the time to make me talk to you. You would have seen that I had been corrupted. Your son would still be alive, I would have never invited the Orcs to our world, Azeroth would be safe.”

“You made it clear you didn't want us there… I tried...”

“That shouldn't have stopped you. You could have prevented this.”

“I...”

Garona once again demands his attention. Her left hand interrupts his excuse, turning his head, bringing his eyes back to her. A smirk on her lips as she brings her right hand up in front of him, her fingers gripping her dagger tightly. The expression on her face doesn't change as the blade is driven down into his neck, just above his collarbone. The manic glee in her eyes is the last thing he sees as he chokes on his own blood and struggles against her strong hands, the world fading around him.

 

* * *

 

Hannah's father finally lets her return to the Keep after she finishes the cooking and cleaning he demands of her for the evening. Sybil welcomes her back and updates her on Llane and Lothar. She tells Hannah that Taria managed to get a sleeping potion into Lothar a few hours ago before finally falling asleep herself and points to her sleeping form on the cot between the men.

A few of the more seriously injured soldiers that made it back through the portal have also been brought in for care. Before she relieves one of the healers who has been working all evening, she checks in on her patient from earlier.

\-----

Lothar is sleeping fitfully when she drags a stool over, sitting down in front of him. His injured arm rests on top of the blankets as he lies on his right side. She can see Khadgar sleeping peacefully on the cot behind Lothar and her eyes linger a little longer than necessary on the young man until muttered words from Lothar pull her attention back to him. She thinks she hears him say, “Callan.”

She'd met the young man with that name on several occasions and had thought quite highly of him. The news of his death two days earlier had been depressing. For someone with his family connections, he had been kind and humble. Not like a lot of others would have been in his place. The kingdom lost a good man.

Knowing the infirmary's potion stock didn't include any Dreamless Sleep potions, Hannah inwardly curses Taria for having given Lothar a standard version. They are easier to come by, but they tend to produce nightmares in a small amount of patients. He appears to be one of the unlucky minority. Given what she’s heard he’s been through in the last few days, the dreams will have a good amount of fuel to work with.

He shifts restlessly and she hears him mutter something that sounds like, “…tried.” Lothar seems to be getting more agitated as she watches over him. Hannah reaches out and places her right hand on his forehead, both to check for fever and to try to calm him. Moments later his eyes fly open and he pulls away from her hand, breathing hard. His right hand flies to the side of his throat in reaction to something he must have experienced in the nightmare.

Realization that it was just a dream comes quickly. His eyes meet hers and Hannah sees the moment he remembers where he is. His stressed breathing begins to calm and he rolls onto his back, trying to relax.

“Are you okay?” she asks, knowing she’s probably going to get a lie in return.

He doesn’t reply immediately. It looks like he’s replaying the dream in his head while staring at the ceiling.

Hannah is about to ask again when he finally answers.

“Mostly.” A short pause and then, “She knows I hate those potions.”

His tired voice slurs a little, letting her know that the effects of the potion haven’t cleared from his system yet.

“May I get you anything?”

“Do they make antidotes for these things?” a pleading tone in his voice.

She can see that since he’s calmed down from the dream the potion still in his bloodstream is trying to drag him back under again. As much as she’d like to be able to do something to help him with this, there is nothing to do but let it run its course.

“I’m sorry sir, they don’t.”

A frustrated groan is his reply to the bad news.

“I can try to wake you up if you have another nightmare.” It’s the only thing she can think of that might help him.

He’s having a hard time keeping his eyes open as he turns his head to look at her again. “I would appreciate that miss… didn’t catch your name.”

“Hannah.”

“Hannah. Thank you.”

She reaches out and takes his right hand in her left. “You are quite welcome sir.”

“Loth'r,” he corrects as his eyes slide shut.

Her fingers give his hand a gentle squeeze, telling him she’s here for him. She feels his fingers twitch in response as sleep claims him again.

\-----

Hannah stays at Lothar’s side until she is sure that he is sleeping peacefully. Other responsibilities keep her from remaining longer. The healer she is replacing has patiently waited for her to finish with Lothar and quickly fills her in on the status of the other patients she will be looking after until the morning.

Any spare moment she has between checking on other patients is spent looking after him. Mercifully, he makes it through the rest of the night without another nightmare and she can let him sleep.

 

* * *

 

Khadgar wakes to sunlight and a full bladder. A worker directs him to the infirmary’s facilities and as he’s leaving the washroom, Sybil crosses his path. He’s surprised to see her still here and says as much.

“Have you been here all night?”

“It’s part of the job description. Before you worry your pretty little head, I got almost as much sleep as you did. Let’s walk and talk though, I need to get back to the King.”

She quickly tells him that they’ve made a good deal of progress with their spells, but that they still have at least a day to go of constant spell-casting before that work will be done. “He will live, but will he wake up, will he walk again.. it’s far too early to tell.”

Taria is awake when they return to Llane. Sybil tells her that she shouldn’t expect any change in his status today, that it’s just going to be another day full of healing spells, and that she should go see her children and get a meal.

The wisdom in her suggestion in undeniable and Taria asks that if anything changes before she returns, someone will come and let her know. Sybil nods and Taria lovingly wishes her husband well and heads out of the room.

Sybil inspects the work one of the younger, less experienced healers is doing. Finding it satisfactory, she heads towards Lothar. Khadgar follows along.

“Did Hannah ever come back?” he inquires as Sybil looks Lothar over.

“Aye. She took care of your friend here all night long.” She sees the disappointment on Khadgar’s face when he doesn’t see her still in the room. “She had to head home before breakfast. Her father is a right bastard and will punish her if she doesn’t have his meals ready on time. Or his trousers washed. Or the cows milked. Anything really. I keep trying to talk her into applying for one of the healer apprentice positions here in the Keep. She’s one of the brightest students I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. She could move in here and be free from him, but she won’t do it. Says she’s all he has. Hogwash.”

Unsure of how to continue after Sybil’s frustrated rant, he simply asks her to thank Hannah for taking care of Lothar.

“You betcha, young fella.” She says with a smile as she finishes her examination of Lothar. “How about you get this soldier some breakfast. He’s bound to be hungry and this whole pretending-to-be-asleep thing isn’t fooling anyone.” She pats Lothar’s leg as she walks away.

“Is she gone yet?”

Khadgar turns back to Lothar at the sound of his voice. He finds him peeking out through one squinted eye, looking very much like an overgrown version of Varian.

“You’re safe. She’s off torturing other patients already.”

Lothar’s eyes both open at this news and he inquires about the food Sybil had mentioned.

“Honestly, you know more than I do about where to find it… and unless all these healers missed something in their examinations, your legs are not broken.”

“I will remember this,” Lothar grumbles as he sits up, pushes the blanket off of his body, and swings his legs off of the cot. He grabs hold of Khadgar’s offered hand and makes it to his feet easily. The dizziness he expects never comes. “Do I still have a coat around here somewhere?”

Khadgar points to where Hannah placed it after neatly folding it the night before.

Lothar bends down to retrieve it from under the small bedside table. He grabs it with his left fingers at first and is quickly reminded that they aren’t fully functional yet when it slides back to the floor. “Dammit.” He snags it with his other hand and turns to Khadgar, “If she saw that she’s probably already heading over. Let’s go before she comes back.”

Khadgar grins and follows the quickly departing Lothar towards the door. As he passes a random healer, he asks her to tell Sybil that he and Lothar have gone to the dining room for breakfast.

As the woman agrees and turns back to her work, she hears Khadgar say to Lothar, “Don’t tell me the Lion of Azeroth is scared of a petite, bossy, red-headed healer.” Before the door closes behind them, Lothar’s reply carries back to her, his last words barely audible.

“I won’t tell you that, and I’d better never hear anyone else say it to you either.”

She smiles to herself as she heads to deliver the message to Sybil.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine that the Human's interaction with the Gnomes and Dwarves has lead to some improvements in bathroom technology. Thus, I picture the city of Stormwind having simple but workable toilets and plumbing, especially in the richer parts of town. I'm just going to run with this assumption throughout my story and this will be the last I apologize for these particular liberties I may have taken. :)
> 
> Picture the scene where someone has to explain these contraptions to Garona...
> 
> Thanksgiving has kept me busy. I am working on the next chapter, but it'll probably be another day or two. (11/25/16)


	7. Back to Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in Stormwind returns to normal after the events in the Black Morass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference made to another of the deleted scenes from the Warcraft disc.

* * *

 

It takes a day longer than expected, but the healers tasked with saving and healing the King are successful. The extent of the injury to his spinal cord won’t be known until he wakes up, if he ever does, and by then there will be no way to go back and fix any remaining damage. All anyone can do now is wait.

Once Llane has been completely stabilized, Taria has him moved to their personal quarters from the infirmary. Sybil works with her to keep a team of her best and most trusted healers available on rotation for the King at all times. Staff that is required for the multiple house calls per day to check on Llane, and also for being on hand in case anything goes wrong.

The kingdom waits for no one, and the Queen does her best to keep things running as smoothly as possible while still spending most of her day within close proximity to her comatose husband.

 

* * *

 

Taria and the King’s council ask Lothar to act as the Regent Lord of Stormwind while Llane remains asleep. It’s not a responsibility he has ever wanted, but he agrees with their assessment that he is the best choice for the job and accepts. His work-load triples and his free time disappears. One good thing to come out of this is that he doesn't have much time to dwell on the loss of Callan, Medivh, and Garona.

Karos, having survived the battle at the Portal, is able to help Lothar by taking over quite a few of his military leadership duties, and for this he is incredibly thankful.

Even with that weight lifted from his shoulders, Lothar is barely able to keep up with everything that requires his attention. He never imagined that Llane had to deal with so many things on a daily basis. Between all of the paperwork a city the size of Stormwind runs on, having to attend meetings about both mundane and crucially important topics with people from all walks of life, having to make decisions that will affect hundreds of thousands of people or more, and a myriad of other duties, Lothar is rapidly worn down to a state of constant exhaustion.

He quickly learns he has to set his ego aside and ask for help to deal with the crushing amount of work to be done. He pawns off duties and responsibilities of lesser importance to Llane's most trusted advisers and assistants in order to survive.

 

* * *

 

In another attempt to make things easier for Lothar, Taria appoints Khadgar as Mage Consul to the Regent. Khadgar doesn't really know how much use he'll be to Lothar and the kingdom at this point, but he feels as though his time will be better spent with them than with the Kirin Tor.

His new appointment helps him stand up to Archmage Antonidas when the elderly mage visits from Dalaran and tells Khadgar that his position as Novitiate has been restored. That he will once again be the next Guardian. Khadgar wants no part in their hands-off approach to the danger that Azeroth is facing and he doesn't want to be their pawn, despite the power he would gain as Guardian. The pleased look on Lothar's face when he walks in on Khadgar turning Antonidas down helps him know his decision was the correct one.

The hangover he wakes up with the next morning tells him some of the other decisions he made that day may not have been as wise.

\-----

In celebration of Khadgar not leaving to become the Guardian, Lothar took his first real break since becoming Regent and had insisted that he join him at The Golden Keg in Stormwind's northern district. The Dwarves that had moved into Stormwind could be found in that particular district and the inn had many Dwarven patrons that night. The revelry was loud and boisterous and despite having no intentions of having anything alcoholic to drink, Khadgar somehow ended up drunk for the first time in his life.

The young mage doesn't remember agreeing to the first ale, nor any of the following drinks, and he certainly doesn't remember how he ended up on one of the couches in Lothar's quarters in the Keep. He has no clue what lead to him waking up on his back with his legs over the arm of the couch, his head resting on the right thigh of the man who had gotten him into this mess. Lothar is leaning back against the couch, his head awkwardly tilted backwards over the top of it, dead to the world, the fingers of his right hand tangled in Khadgar’s dark hair. The snoring male Dwarf on the couch on the other side of a small table from him is also not to be found in his memory.

Khadgar is able to disentangle himself from Lothar’s fingers without waking the man, slide off of the couch, and silently make his way out of the room. Queasiness and a pounding headache have him hustling to his room next door, where he manages to find a potion to settle his stomach before attempting to get a little more sleep so that he might be almost useful for the rest of the day.

He never does manage to get a straight answer out of Lothar about what happened that night and decides it's probably for the best.

 

* * *

 

Lothar is just starting to feel as though he's getting good enough at his new job that he can relax a little bit when emissaries from the Dwarves, Elves, Gnomes, and the Humans of Lordaeron arrive in Stormwind after hearing of Llane’s incapacitation.

He has seen how frustrated and angry Llane has gotten when having to deal them in the past and he is truly not looking forward to the gathering of these representatives from the different factions of the Alliance.

When the members of the difference races of Azeroth gather in the throne room to discuss the threat of the Horde, Lothar is pleasantly surprised to find that the attempted assassination of the King and the outcome of the battle in the Black Morass have made them more inclined to believe that there is a danger that affects them all. The talks go much more smoothly than they have in the past and pledges of support are made from all sides. The Alliance is strengthened.

 

* * *

 

Over the next few weeks, everyone's new duties become routine and Khadgar gets permission from Lothar to return to Karazhan to start learning from the overwhelming amount of books contained within. Strictly speaking, he should be asking the Kirin Tor for consent, but he’d rather ask them for forgiveness if they find out. The knowledge contained in that tower is too important to risk them saying no.

As he prepares the portal to Karazhan, he realizes that he didn't ask if anyone had removed Medivh's body. To his relief, when he enters the tower and climbs to the top, he finds that someone has had the wisdom to do so. The sight of the toppled and frozen golem in the depleted pool is hard enough to look at, he doesn’t know what he would have done if the remains of the Guardian had still been trapped beneath.

Not wanting to spend any more time than necessary in this room that Medivh had made his home, Khadgar quickly looks through Medivh's most personal belongings, looking for anything of importance. Not to steal from the dead, but to improve the odds of Azeroth's survival. When he finds nothing of note, he turns to head back down to the library below. The sharp sound of something hitting the stone floor behind him has him whirling about, a defensive spell already forming on his lips.

Atiesh. Khadgar knows that the magical staff was not there a minute ago, yet now it lies before him on the floor, beckoning.

He knows Medivh's weapon is not his for the taking, he’s not the Guardian, but he can't stop himself as he steps forward, bends down, and wraps his fingers around the heavy staff. The wood is warm in his hands, which is odd considering the cooler temperature of the room it has been residing in.

Only after Medivh had left Atiesh in his care the second time did he find out that the staff doesn’t let just anyone handle it. Any person other than the Guardian it currently belonged to was in for a very painful shock if they tried to hold it. The fact that it had allowed him pain free access mystified everyone but Medivh, who never explained why he could touch it.

That peculiarity, along with it making an appearance to Khadgar as it just did, leads him to believe that it wants him to take him. Once again he figures that he’ll apologize later if anyone has a problem with his actions.

\-----

He spends most of his time pouring through as many of the countless books stored in the tower as he can. Choosing books at random, he loses himself in their contents. Learning new spells, learning how to enhance his powers with Atiesh, learning how to improve his casting technique for spells he already knows. There aren’t enough hours in the day and he often forgets to eat or sleep, but he does return to Stormwind regularly to check in. He’s sure Taria would send someone by gryphon to check on him if he didn’t and she has enough to worry about already.

It is while he is reading through a book that caught his eye for its plain and boring cover that he discovers something that could very well give the Alliance the advantage needed to defeat the Orcs. After reading through the book a second time to confirm he read it correctly the first time, he gathers his belongings and rushes back to Stormwind to share his findings with Lothar.

 

* * *

  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't make me happy. After working on it over and over again for almost five days I've given up trying to make it better. It is what it is... which is boring transitional filler. :)
> 
> Now that it's out of the way we'll be heading into the real beginning of my story. Content I've had written for months now. I, for one, am excited. Woo!
> 
> I'm running completely beta-reader free at this point, so all mistakes are all mine. It has been pointed out that I could do better with my use of tenses and I now have homework. Hopefully I'll be making improvements in that field in the near future.
> 
> Thank you to the givers of new feedback and kudos. I appreciate you!


	8. Going Down?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventure begins.
> 
> At last.
> 
> If you call hiking an adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leeroy Jenkins was confirmed to have been in the Warcraft movie by director Duncan Jones. He said that he was one of the soldiers with Callan after the lightning wall went up, and was one of the first ones to charge forward to certain death. I haven't been able to spot him in that particular scene, but I did find him in the deleted scene he was in at the inn. He existed and he died for his fellow soldiers. I honor him within. :)

* * *

 

Khadgar silently wonders how long it has been since anyone else has been in this part of the forest. From where they left the road after crossing the river into southern Elwynn Forest the members of their group have had to forge their trail through the unwelcoming trees and plant life. He had known they weren’t going to find a tidy little path straight to their destination, but he hadn’t realized how difficult simply walking through the woods could be. This dreary and foreboding forest that runs along the base of the mountains that separate Brightwood from the land around Karazhan seems to want to keep its secret hidden. Fortunately, many in the party have excellent wilderness skills and they continue making progress towards their goal. With a day and a half of travel behind them, it looks as though they might finally be getting close to their destination.

 

* * *

 

Twelve of Lothar’s best soldiers have accompanied the mage and the Regent on this search for something that may not even exist, or may have been previously discovered and removed. However, if the information in the old book Khadgar found proves to be accurate, they could be on their way to obtaining something that will grant them a powerful advantage over the Orcs. A tool to help stop the invasion of Azeroth.

Even Taria’s stance against Lothar leaving his Regent duties behind to go frolic in the forest couldn’t stand for long against the argument that this could very well end the upcoming war. This expedition required Khadgar’s presence and Lothar was not going to let him go out there without protecting him himself. The kingdom will just have to make due without him for a week or less.

Their horses have been left behind in the stables of the logging camp near the eastern edge of Elwynn Forest, the journey since has been on foot. Khadgar had questioned that decision at the time, but now he sees the horses would have been a hindrance in this environment. His tired feet make him wish this hadn’t been the case and he comes to the conclusion that he really isn’t cut out for long hikes. Knowing that the others are working hard to clear a trail while all he does is read a book, he keeps his mouth shut about the discomfort.

The book Khadgar carries appears to be a journal of sorts. From what he can gather, it was written by a magic user of great power many years ago and details some of the magical items the man created and stashed away from the world. Thankfully the yellowed pages contain a guide for finding the cave the items were sealed in, but only another practitioner of the magical arts would be able to find the directional markers described by the author. It seems as though the man had wanted his work discovered at some point, but only by those that would be worthy of his knowledge.

Using the directions and landmarks in the tome, the soldiers are able to get Khadgar close enough to the next marker each time that he can feel the Arcane residual each one holds and is able to point them to it straightaway. The instructions are specific enough that if anyone attempted to follow them without being able to find the markers, they would never succeed. The likelihood that someone would be able to find this place without the guide is practically nonexistent and the book mentions that the site is hidden behind magical protections to guard against the random passerby.

The journal leads them into the beginning edge of the mountain range, the trees begin to thin, and their travel becomes easier. With only a few markers left until their destination, they find themselves leaving the forest and emerging into a small open area that ends in a drop-off. At the bottom of the sheer cliff before them is what looks to be a large grass covered hollow. Surrounded on three sides by cliff walls, and the fourth by forest. Patches of trees grow throughout the depression and in one area the obvious remnant of an orchard is visible. The small trees that remain have grown in lines too straight to have occurred naturally. Despite the signs of previous habitation, no buildings or recent signs of people can be spotted from their vantage point.

According to the book, the second to last marker should be close enough for Khadgar to feel, but he senses nothing magical around them. He asks the soldiers to help him look around the area for the dragon shaped symbol all of the other markers have had. As they begin scouring the immediate area for the familiar etching, Lothar squats down next to Khadgar where he is searching along the edge of the cliff.

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

“It has to be. The directions were very clear. I don’t know why I can’t feel it.” His frustration obvious to Lothar.

Khadgar stands up and turns to inspect the waist high rock to his right, wanting to find the marker to prove that he hadn’t made a mistake.

Lothar looks out at the orchard in the distance and as his gaze returns to the ground in front of him, he readies himself to stand and move elsewhere to search.

“I think I do,” Lothar says to Khadgar's back. “Look here.” He points to a spot on the ground just a little to his left at the edge of the cliff as Khadgar turns towards him.

Khadgar doesn’t see what he’s pointing to at first. The only thing out of place is a small section of the ground that appears to have cracked and fallen away at some point in the past, leaving a jagged chunk of stone missing from the otherwise smooth precipice. When he moves in closer and gets a better look, he finally notices what Lothar has found. He could have looked this area over for the rest of the day and never found the inch long wingtip that is all that remains of the marker that was etched into the ground here.

“That would explain why I couldn’t feel it. The magic contained in the marker would have dissipated much faster when it was damaged. I can’t believe you spotted that.”

“Years of tracking animals for the troops. Something that small could mean the difference between dinner and going hungry.”

“Now I know who to bother for tonight’s meal.”

Lothar stands up and calls the rest of the party over to their location. Then, to Khadgar, “Get us there and I will personally make sure your supper is tastier than that conjured crap you call food.”

With a grin, Khadgar replies, “I’m going to hold you to that.”

Before Lothar can reply, one of the men interrupts. “Please tells me that the next marker isn't down there. We don't have enough rope to climb down that far.”

Lothar doesn't have an answer for the man and raises a questioning eyebrow at Khadgar.

“Based on the direction of the marker,” Khadgar pauses and glances at the next passage in the book again, “...and what the book says, I would have to say that it is, indeed, down there.”

Several of the soldiers grumble at this news. The soldier that spoke leans out and looks over the edge. “I don't see any way down. No hand holds, no path. I don't suppose you have a way of getting us down there with all of those spells you know.”

Everyone is looking at Khadgar expectantly now.

“I do know one spell. I doubt many of you are going to like it though,” Khadgar leans over the edge to judge the distance to the ground below. “It _should_ last long enough for everyone to make it down safely.”

“Should? You expect any of us to go over this cliff with that promise?” another soldier asks from the back of the group.

“If his idea has merit, then yes,” Lothar replies to the soldier with a hint of command in his voice. Then, to Khadgar, “Is this something you've done before?”

“Definitely. I've used it a few times in Karazhan. You've climbed those stairs. That's a lot of stairs,” Khadgar rambles nervously.

“Then why are you worried about it?”

“I've never used it on anyone else and it takes a little getting used to. I'd prefer to test it out somewhere a little less… elevated.”

“Well, what is it?” Lothar isn't sure he actually wants to know.

“Slow Fall. They taught it to us back in Dalaran in case we were unlucky enough to fall off of the city. I never tried it until Karazhan, but it's actually quite useful. Only lasts about thirty seconds though.”

The talkative soldier interjects, “So, you really do want us to just fall off of the cliff. Slowly.”

“Yes?” Khadgar looks to their Commander for help.

“Maybe we could try it out from a shorter height?” Lothar asks, Khadgar nods. “I need a volunteer to climb one of these trees.”

A smaller male soldier steps forward. “Thank you Sergeant Taylor.” Then to Khadgar, “How far up does he need to go?”

“Not too far. I can activate the spell before he jumps out of the tree. Just make sure that he doesn't push off of the tree towards the cliff, the spell tends to float you in the direction you're moving when your feet leave the ground.”

“You hear that Taylor?” Lothar checks with his volunteer.

The soldier is already heading for the tree and calls back an affirmative.

Everyone watches as the young man, who is wearing leather armor like the rest of them, deftly makes his way as high up into the closest tree as he can go. He calls down from his perch, “Now what?”

Khadgar speaks the words of the spell and aims the resulting magic at the man in the tree. A small burst of sparkling yellow envelopes the Sergeant who is still waiting for further instructions.

“Now just step out of the tree, aiming away from the cliff,” Khadgar advises.

Taylor calls down, “Are you guys ready to catch me if this doesn't work?”

“No promises,” one of the other soldiers yells back.

Lothar is glad for the privileges of rank in times like these. He watches Taylor bravely step away from safety, trusting that Khadgar knows what he's doing. He doesn't think he'd be able to let go of that tree.

“Here goes nothing!” Taylor steps away from the branch he's been standing on, aiming his forward movement in parallel to the cliff edge. As he pushes off with the foot that is still on the branch, his nervous energy causes him to shove a little harder than he meant to and as the spell activates around him, his body glides away from the group. The magic supporting him feels a bit like floating in a pool of water, but it doesn't have anything to interact with to change his trajectory like water would. He can't do anything to stop himself from floating away until his fingers manage to snag a branch of a tree he is floating past. As he grabs onto the branch with both hands, the magic dissipates, leaving him hanging in the tree, not much closer to the ground than where he started from.

The group has moved with the Sergeant as he floated away and as his progress comes to a halt Khadgar repeats the spell. Taylor lights up with yellow again and Khadgar tells him to just let go.

So he does. This time he descends straight down at a leisurely pace. His feet contact the earth and the magic fades away. “That was different,” Taylor says to no one in particular.

“Will you be able to get us all down safely using that? Will it last long enough?” Lothar inquires of Khadgar.

The smile on Khadgar's face disappears at the questions. “I should be able to use the spell on everyone without any problem, but I'm not really sure if it will last long enough to make it all the way down. It should be close though.”

“Could you hit a moving target with the spell?”

“Possibly. What are you thinking?”

He runs his idea past Khadgar. “I was just thinking it could buy a few seconds if a person were to jump off and get hit with the spell as they were falling.”

“I don't trust my skills enough to pull that off. It will be less dangerous to just fall the last little bit rather than the whole way if I miss.”

Lothar has to agree with his assessment.

Khadgar surmises, “As long as everyone manages to float straight down it will probably work. I just don't want anyone getting hurt if I'm wrong.”

“We either need to test it out or find another way down. Do you trust the spell enough that you would walk off of that cliff if you had to?” His decision about the future of his men depends on the answer he gets.

“Yes.”

Taylor speaks up, “I'll do it. Just promise me if I die that you'll find your way down for my body. I want a proper burial with a nice headstone. Make sure it says something about how I died bravely on it. And if you could bury me next to my cousin, that would be appreciated.”

“I'll pay for it myself,” Lothar promises with a grin. “What is your cousin's name?”

“Much appreciated Commander,” Taylor returns the smile but it fades when he speaks again. “Jenkins. He died in the battle at the base of Blackrock with your son.”

“I knew him. He was a reckless young man, but courageous.” Before thoughts of his son can take hold, Lothar pushes ahead with the plan.

He directs everyone over to the broken marker and digs a few health potions out of one of his belt pouches, handing them to Taylor. “In case of a hard landing.”

“Thank you.” Their volunteer takes the potions and places them in one of his belt pouches where he won't be likely to land on them if the spell fails early.

Taylor sits down at the edge of the cliff, his feet hanging over the edge. He and Khadgar decide upon how best to time the test and it is decided that on the count of three he will slide off of the edge. Khadgar will hit him with the spell just before he pushes off if things go as planned.

As Khadgar readies himself, one of the two female soldiers in the group says to Taylor, “Fall well. We'll see you at the bottom.”

“Thank you Trinda, I shall try,” is his response.

Most of the soldiers lie down on their stomachs with their heads hanging over the drop-off so they can watch what happens without falling over the edge. Lothar makes sure both men are ready and tells them he's going to start the countdown.

Just before he does, Taylor says, “In honor of my cousin and his stupid battle cry...”

Khadgar starts speaking the words that make up the spell as Lothar starts counting. Between Lothar's two and three he releases the magic towards Taylor. Bright yellow flashes and the Sergeant slides over the edge. His voice carries back up to them...

“Kilroooooy Taaaaylor!”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long to write. It just kept expanding. Hopefully the next chapter flows faster. It'll be the start of my foray into writing action scenes! Wish me luck.


	9. How Many Treasures Can One Cavern Hold?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our hikers finally arrive at their destination. Is what they are looking for still there? How are Khadgar's feet holding up? At least one of those questions is answered inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't quite get to the action scenes promised at the end of the last chapter. They'll arrive in chapter 10. *pinky swear* This chapter took much longer to write than I expected and I wanted to get it posted.
> 
> I have included my own drawing in the middle of the story and it's my first attempt at linking hosted photos correctly. It looks right to me and I hope I've done it all correctly so the hosting site doesn't get mad at me for some reason. :D

* * *

  
“Would you two go help get Lind out of that tree?”

The soldiers waiting next to Khadgar give Lothar a quick, “Yes sir!” and head over to where most of the others are already attempting to figure out how to get the poor man out of the tree he had landed in.

The strong limbs had stopped his fall when Khadgar’s spell ended a little too early and dropped him from a dangerous height. Though the tree had kept Lind from falling to his death, it took its payment for the service in blood. A small but sturdy branch pierced the man’s shoulder and pinned him in place high up in the air.

With the addition of the two men, everyone not attending to Sergeant Moore and his possibly broken ankle is now working out how to get Lind off of the branch and safely back to the ground.

After their soldier with basic healer training verifies that Moore’s ankle isn’t broken, just badly sprained, Lothar asks Khadgar to go assist as well, just in case any of them manage to fall out of the tree.

“Who knows, you might still get your chance to practice on a moving target.” All Lothar gets in response from the mage is a nervous laugh as he stands and heads towards the group. Lothar turns back to assist their medic with Moore’s injury. Between the two of them they manage to stabilize the ankle and get his boot back on before the swelling gets any worse. Lothar’s last health potion gets donated to the soldier to augment the basic healing spells the healer used to get him started down the road to recovery. They still have a bit of walking to go and Lothar doesn’t want to be slowed down by injury if it can be avoided.

By the time Lothar leaves Moore’s side to check on the progress at the tree, Khadgar has Lind and one other soldier floating slowly down from the branches. Lothar is not at all surprised to see that the man who climbed the tree and pulled Lind free is Taylor. Once the two men make it safely to the ground, the injured soldier is quickly carried over to where the medic and Moore are resting. Taylor hands Lothar’s health potions to the healer and everyone watches as he works his healing magic. Before long Lind’s shoulder is in good enough condition that he can resume trekking.

Khadgar double checks their heading based on the last marker, Moore and Lind get hauled to their feet, and the group heads towards the last marker in the book.

\-----

Khadgar starts to feel the familiar magical tingle coming from a small grouping of trees ahead of them. As they get closer to the source, he can see that there appears to be something large nestled in the vegetation. What looks to be some sort of small building made out of stone is barely visible beneath the plant life that has covered it through the years.

When they reach the ramshackle building, Khadgar finds the dragon marker etched into the door frame that no longer holds a door. It looks like it hasn’t in quite awhile from what he can see of the interior condition of the hut. He can’t feel any signs of wards or defenses from the structure and asks if he could get some help clearing the doorway and interior so he can look for inside for any possible information about how to find the cave. The journal’s last instructions lead to here and no further.

It’s already a little past the time the evening meal would normally have been eaten and everyone is getting hungry. Lothar instructs a few of the men to help Khadgar with the hut. Everyone else splits up and spreads out. Hunting fresh meat for dinner is their goal. Everyone, that is, except Moore and Lind who get to sit and rest.

With the others helping him, Khadgar quickly gains access to the interior of the hut. Working together, they clear the plants from the walls and as they do so, runes, drawings, and words magically etched into the walls become visible. While the men continue clearing the walls, Khadgar starts to copy what he finds into his sketch book.

Once the walls of the hut are cleared, the men that have been helping Khadgar start a campfire a short distance away in preparation for cooking whatever might be brought back for dinner.

By the time the last of the soldiers return to the camp, Khadgar thinks he knows exactly where they need to go to find the cave.

Most of the hunting parties return with nothing, but Lothar is true to his earlier promise and his group returns with a small deer-like creature Khadgar has never seen before. The soldiers prepare the animal and have it roasting over the fire in no time at all. Khadgar is impressed with their efficiency and is even more awed when the meal he is handed a short time later tastes better than some of the food he’s eaten from the King’s own dining table.

\-----

The sun is well on its way to setting by the time the meal has been eaten and everyone is ready to follow Khadgar to their final destination. The distance between the ruined hut and the solid cliff wall he leads them to isn’t great and it doesn’t take long for them to arrive.

“I hate to sound repetitive, but are you sure this is the right place?” Lothar inquires as he visually inspects the rock wall in front of them. All he can see is a normal stone wall. Not a cave in sight.

Khadgar alone can feel the magic from the wards and see the runes that hide and protect the cave. They hadn’t appeared until he’d come within a few feet of them. “Definitely. Just give me a few minutes to find the key.” He pulls his sketch book out and works his way through the information he copied from the hut’s walls until he finds the complementary runes for each of the ones on the stone in front of them. He deactivates each in turn and as he finishes with the last one, the wards drop. Where seconds ago a disguising barrier had been, the mouth of a cave appears.

A few of the soldiers make sounds of surprise or amazement as the dark hole in the wall materializes. Many of them are still getting used to the magical wonders that occur when a mage is present.

Lothar moves towards the cave, but Khadgar stops him. “Let me inspect it first. There are likely to be more magical protections.”

“I will be right behind you,” Lothar states as he pulls his sword from the reinforced leather band on the back of his coat and steps closer to the young man. “Caves tend to attract dangerous things.”

Khadgar doesn’t argue. The likelihood that anything would have gotten past the barrier is miniscule, but there is always a possibility. He places the leather strap that Taria recently had custom made for Atiesh over his shoulder and across his body. The strap allows the staff to rest comfortably against his back, freeing his hands for other tasks. He speaks the words that form a bright ball of light in his left hand so they can see into the darkness of the cave. His right hand he holds out in front of him, fingers spread, to sense any wards in his path. Lothar trails closely behind and Khadgar can tell that his bodyguard is a little on edge by the way he is carrying himself, sword at the ready.

The cave’s interior is filled with small work tables placed randomly throughout and several bookshelves line the walls. Most of the available surfaces have regular household items strewn across them, yet a few hold inventions neither man recognizes. In one area there is a pile of what looks to be broken items and random junk. The lack of dust catches Khadgar’s attention. ‘Must have used a preservation spell too.’

His outstretched fingers do find a few minor wards during their inspection and he disarms them easily enough. Once he is sure there are no dangerous magical traps and once Lothar is satisfied no physical dangers lurk, they pronounce the cave safe.

Lothar asks him how long he thinks he’ll need to spend in the cave to find what they are looking for. Khadgar glances around the cave, taking in the amount of items that he’ll have to inspect. “A day? Maybe less if I don’t sleep?”

“Try to make it less. I don’t like the feel of this place.” Lothar waits for the mage’s nod of agreement and heads back out to the people waiting outside. Khadgar follows, not wanting to be left alone in the dark cave.

The Commander quickly has the men setting up a defensible camp a small distance from the cave’s entrance. “No fires, we don’t want to draw extra attention to ourselves.”

Khadgar steps up beside Lothar, drawing his attention, and quietly tells him that he should be able to set up an illusionary barrier that will hide their camp from outside eyes, ears, and noses.

“You’re starting to make me feel guilty about teasing you for always having your nose in a book. Another spell from Karazhan?” he asks Khadgar.

He nods.

“Go ahead. Let’s see what you’ve been learning in that tower.”

Khadgar moves around the outside edge of the camp, drawing runes with Atiesh that float inches above the ground when finished. As the last one completes, all of the runes flash in unison and a shimmering, mostly translucent barrier forms between them, spreading quite a distance into the air before angling back to meet the face of the cliff behind them. The air around them instantly feels a little thicker, sounds and smells take on an odd flat quality. The mage announces to the party, “No one on the other side of that should be able to tell that we are even here. You may move through it, but it will sting a little bit when you do.”

Lothar thanks him for the protection and tells him to go ahead and start working through the items in the cave. “I think I might take the first watch.”

\-----

A few soldiers settle in for a few hours of sleep just inside the mouth of the cave as Khadgar starts to sort through everything held within its walls.

His first task after lighting the lamps that are spread out around the cave is to collect all of the items that give off a magical feel and bring them to a centralized spot for study. Once the random assortment of things is in a tidy pile, he sits down to inspect them.

As he works his way through them, Khadgar recognizes quite a few of objects from their description in the journal, but the majority of the items have to be examined to discover what they do. Anything he deems useful or wants to look into further, he puts off to one side. All the while he is filling his sketch book with notes and rough drawings.

Khadgar is so engrossed in his work that he loses all track of time. The sun has set by the time a familiar voice startles him. He hasn’t heard Lothar approach from behind.

“Are you finding anything useful?” The right corner of Lothar’s mouth pulls up into one of his lopsided smiles when the young man in front of him jumps at his question.

“It’s never a good idea to sneak up on a mage,” Khadgar admonishes as he regains his composure. “I haven’t found what we came here for yet, but there are quite a few other things I’d like to take back with us if possible. I just need something to put it all in.”

Lothar turns to one of the soldiers just settling in at the cave entrance and asks him to go get the large sack that Moore always keeps with him. For once it will be useful and not just a running joke amongst the men. As the man leaves to follow the order, Lothar removes his sword, settles himself against the rock wall a short distance from Khadgar, and asks him to fill him in on some of the things he’s found. While he listens to Khadgar enthusiastically explains what quite of few of the items can do, the soldier returns with the linen bag Lothar had requested. When the man holds it out to him, Lothar points towards Khadgar rather than interrupt the description of what the oddly shaped metal blob in his hand is capable of. The bag is deposited at Khadgar’s side and the soldier returns to the mouth of the cave to get some sleep.

Khadgar’s thank you to Lothar is met with tired yawn.

“Get some sleep. I still have a lot of stuff to go through.”

“Wake me up if you find it.”

Khadgar’s reply falls on deaf ears. Lothar’s many years as a soldier have given him the ability to fall asleep pretty much anywhere and anytime necessary while in the field and his eyes are already closed.

\-----

The concern that what they have traveled here for may no longer be here starts to overshadow Khadgar’s excitement over each new magical discovery. His pile of things still needing inspection is rapidly shrinking, and nothing remaining in his still to be inspected pile gives off enough power to be what he’s looking for. He is just about ready to take a break and stretch his legs when his fingers brush against a small wooden box. ‘One more, then I go for a walk.’

The box is plain, but well built. Nothing about it would catch anyone’s attention. He’d almost overlooked it completely when he had gathered everything together as it was barely giving off any sign of power.

Once he holds the opened box in his lap, his original assessment changes drastically. The box has obviously been designed to hide the power of the items it protects. Khadgar knows instantly that he’s found what they’ve come all this way for and removes one of the five matching metal objects from the container to get a better look at it.

The black metal form looks to be a simplistic representation of a dragon and is very similar to the shape of the markers they followed to get here. It’s not intricately designed, but appears to have been made by a master craftsman. The small figure is very well made and not as heavy as he expected. Khadgar isn’t as knowledgeable about metals as he would like to be, but he’s pretty sure it is made out of iron.

The metal dragon is about four inches long from the tip of its wedge-shaped head to the end of its pointy tail. Each wing measures about three and half inches in length. Four sharp little legs are attached to the body and there is an inch long spike on the bottom side of it where the wings meet the body. The dragon would lie flat upon a table if not for the spike.

If the power leaking out of the metal in his hand is anything to go by, this is one of the strongest items of power he has ever held. The description within the pages of the journal had given him no clue it would be so potent. It had simply explained that the long dead mage had created a tool that would allow a magical practitioner to feed some of his or her power through the item and into another person to temporarily give the recipient heightened strength, dexterity, reflexes, and the like. In essence, creating a super soldier that could more than equal several Orcs in a fight.

Excitement at the discovery quickly makes way for doubt. While the power coming from the dragon is immense, it feels raw and dirty. Not like any of the other items in the cave, nor like any power Khadgar has felt before. It reminds him of the way the Fel felt as it coursed through his body, but a bit different. More primal. He’s no longer sure that these things aren’t too dangerous to use.

A small rolled parchment sits alongside the dragons still inside the box. Khadgar replaces the dragon he has been inspecting and removes the scroll, unrolling it, discovering multiple pages contained within. The handwriting is poor and tiny, but as it is in Common it can be made out with a bit of work. The dried blood splattered across the pages makes the job a little more difficult. He makes himself comfortable and starts copying the content of the note into his sketch book, attempting to make an easily read version.

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/trooberger/31399605741/in/album-72157675993434751/)

 

The sound of a quill scratching against parchment greets Lothar as he wakes. He opens his eyes to find that Khadgar hasn’t moved from the spot he was in even though several hours have passed. His dependable internal clock tells him there are still several hours to go until the sun begins to rise.

Stiff neck muscles are a reminder that he’s not as young as he used to be and that cave walls don’t make the best pillows. He is stretching the cramped muscles when Khadgar speaks up.

“I found them.”

“Why didn’t you wake me as I asked?”

Khadgar holds up a blotchy page and says, “I wanted to read this first. I decided to copy it into a more legible form while I did so. You didn’t need to be awake for that.”

Lothar can’t argue with that logic and moves closer to see what the young man has in his possession.

Khadgar hands him one of the iron dragons and explains what he found in the scroll while Lothar inspects the metal beast.

He tells him that it appears the journal’s author had been a decent guy on the surface, but these dragons proved he was into darker things. The man had dabbled in a magic unfamiliar to Khadgar. Some sort of twisted blood based magic.

Lothar listens to Khadgar explain that the scroll tells how these items had been forged from iron that had been stored for a year in the magical blood of a captured black whelpling mixed with the blood from several sacrificed Humans. While the craftsman he had hired formed the dragons from this metal, the mage had channeled some of his power and the formative spells into them. Once the metal worker was done and he had presented the completed works to the mage, his life was over.

Khadgar continues the tale, telling Lothar how the mage had taken the craftsman, placed the man’s last work over his heart, and at the end of an incantation, he had driven the dragon’s spike into the man’s flesh. The life force carried in the man’s blood was the last requirement to activate the spells worked into the metal. Once the process had begun, the dragon pulled the rest of the victim’s life force from him, powering the completion of the mage’s dark tool. The creator had repeated this ritual six more times with his remaining prisoners.

“I think I can understand why this information wasn’t included in the journal,” Lothar interrupts as Khadgar pauses to flip to the next page in his book.

“Indeed. If the Kirin Tor had known what he was up to, he would have quickly become one of their special guests in Dalaran. Never to be heard from again. It tends to make the practitioners of magic look bad when one of their members starts slaughtering innocent people.”

“I would imagine so.” Lothar finishes looking the dragon over and hands it back to Khadgar.

“It says here that in order to use them, you have to line the dragon up on the spine of whomever you plan on enhancing, placing the head near the person’s neck. Then you have to embed the spike into his or her flesh and activate it by channeling a life force and the caster’s own power into the metal while speaking the incantation included in the scroll. I imagine the process is much like how I’ve heard Gul’dan uses the Fel to suck the life from things and then shove the Fel into his Orcs. This isn’t the kind of magic I’ve had any training in.”

“From my personal experience with the Kirin Tor, I’m pretty sure that’s a skill they teach a bit later on in training. They’re quite adept at sucking the life out of every room they enter.”

Khadgar chuckles at Lothar’s assessment of the rather self-important mages. Looking back to his book, he continues, “There are some notations showing that he had experimented with the dragons a bit, testing out what would happen if he used other types of magic than his Blood magic to activate them. There aren’t many details, but it appears two of them were destroyed in the process.”

“Are there any details that weren’t included in the journal about what these things do to a person?”

The look on Khadgar’s face warns Lothar that the answer isn’t going to be pleasant.

“As the journal said, when a dragon is used on a person, they become enhanced. The spells contained in each dragon strengthen bones and quicken reflexes. Muscles become stronger, senses are heightened. He or she could fight and move tirelessly for long periods of time, through the worst terrain. The person becomes a near invincible killing machine.”

Lothar can tell the bad news is coming next.

“The problem is that when the life force powering the dragon runs out, it deactivates until used on the next person. This leaves the subject’s enhanced body to fend for itself to obtain enough energy to keep going. There’s no way the person could fuel their body’s extra energy requirements without the power from the dragon and they basically starve to death. The body starts stealing resources from less needed systems to fuel the most important ones and in the end basically consumes itself. It sounds like an unpleasant way to die.”

“It is.” Lothar doesn’t expand on how he knows this and Khadgar is positive he doesn’t want to know the details.

After a slight pause, Khadgar continues, “If you have no qualms about sacrificing two lives each time you use a dragon, you do get quite a powerful weapon for awhile. I doubt it’s worth the cost though.”

“I agree with you, but I can also see the appeal of this sort of tool if there are no other options. Two lives given to save hundreds? Thousands?”

Khadgar hopes to never be put into a situation that requires that sort of decision.

“I’m starting to wish I’d never found this journal… that we’d never come looking for these things.”

“You couldn’t have known he was hiding anything, and if things get bad enough, they still might be useful. The trip was not wasted.”

Khadgar grabs an item out of the linen bag full of things he’s taking with them and holds it up between them.

“That is true. If we hadn’t come, Azeroth would never be able to reap the benefits from the discovery of this.”

“That looks like a shoe horn.”

“To those not blessed with magical abilities, yes.” Khadgar draws a look of annoyance from Lothar with that statement. “To those of us that can access the Arcane…” he pauses for dramatic effect, “Yeah, okay. It’s a shoe horn.” Khadgar can't help the goofy grin that spreads across his face.

Lothar rolls his eyes and climbs to his feet, picking up his sword as he does so.

“It’s a really nice shoe horn though. Finest shoe horn I’ve ever seen.”

“Finish what you’re working on and get some rest Khadgar. I think a lack of sleep might be making you a little delirious.” As he turns to head out of the cave, Lothar calls back to Khadgar, “We’ll return to Stormwind at dawn.”

Before Khadgar can reply, a sharp whistle splits the night. Followed closely by a shout from somewhere near the cave entrance.

“Stay here!” Lothar yells back to Khadgar as he rushes to the entrance of the cave, sword in hand.

Khadgar climbs to his feet and starts moving towards the mouth of the cave to see what is going on. The howl of a large beast stops him in his tracks.

The two soldiers who have been resting just inside the cave move to join their Commander. Lothar instructs one of them to stay and protect Khadgar and then hurries out into the night to defend the camp.  
 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My user icon is my attempt at drawing the iron dragon from my story. I am not a writer, I'm definitely not an artist. This is the result of an hour learning how to use Paint and then praying it turned out right. Don't look too closely. ;) Also, the site has squished the picture a bit horizontally so it doesn't display quite right. I need to figure out where to host photos so I can put them in the story as I want them to be. (I may have figured this out)
> 
> This chapter begins my rampant incorrect usage of ellipses like I warned I was liable to do. I never knew what the punctuation was really for until this morning when I looked it up. In my mind they were a way to stretch out the comment before them in a longer pause. I also learned today that that's basically what a semicolon is for, but after this many years of living with my way of using ellipses, I'm too set in my way to change.


	10. Let's Get Ready to Rumble!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our hikers are attacked. Who will survive?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are descriptions of possibly graphic violence within and people die. You have been warned.
> 
> My first action scene. It's clunky. :D

* * *

 

What Lothar sees as he exits the cave is exactly what he was hoping not to. Orcs. The light from the slivered moon doesn't do much to help him get an accurate count, and the magical barrier doesn't let the glow from their campfire through to assist either. It's obvious Khadgar's shield has kept their camp hidden from them to this point, the Orcs would have seen them quite plainly without it with how close they are getting.

The eleven soldiers who are outside of the cave with Lothar work quickly to prepare for a fight if they are discovered. It is looking more and more like that will be the outcome as the Orcs head towards their camp. A large male Orc wearing a skull as a mask leads the group from the back of one of their large wolves. Lothar picks him out as the leader of this band and mentally nicknames him Skull.

Skull's wolf has its nose to the ground and appears to be tracking straight towards them along their path from the stone hut. 'Should've thought about that. Too late now.' Lothar calls to his men, “Remember to use your brains. They win in a battle of strength,” mirroring his recent admonishment to his son. Some of these soldiers haven't fought Orcs before, but he's made sure that all of Stormwind's troops have been briefed on how best to battle Orcs since the defeat in the Black Morass.

As the wolf approaches the barrier, Lothar can finally see that there are nine Orcs along with Skull and his wolf. 'Light, this is going to be rough,' he thinks to himself. His men may be among the best Stormwind has to offer, but their slight number advantage over the Orcs isn't going to be enough.

The wolf makes it to the edge of the illusion and pauses. Lothar can tell that it knows something is there that it can't see. Its nose sniffs the air less than an inch from the barrier and it makes a whining noise.

Skull hops off of the wolf to see what has stopped its progress. As he steps forward, the wolf sticks its nose into the barrier and receives a painful zap. It startles backwards and shakes its head, unsure of what just attacked it. Skull watches what happens to the wolf and turns his attention back towards the seemingly open area in front of them. He reaches his left hand forward and his fingers sink through the invisible wall. He receives a shock as well and withdraws his hand, inspecting his fingers for damage.

On the other side of the barrier Lothar reminds his men to wait until the Orcs are through to use their boomsticks. He is unsure if the magic will interfere with their shots or not and doesn't want them wasted.

Orc fingers once again pierce their protective bubble. This time Skull doesn't pull his hand back and instead pushes his arm further in. His Orcs watch as first his hand, then his forearm, and now his elbow disappear from sight. He feels nothing but open space on the other side and commands one of the Orcs to move forward and report back as to what is on the other side. The chosen male Orc is worried about what he's walking face first into danger on the other side, but knows that it will be death if he declines. Skull pulls his arm back out and Nose Ring, as Lothar quickly names him, steps forward into the barrier, arm out in front of him.

He finds the initial zap to be almost painful, but pushes through. When Nose Ring's head clears the barrier and he sees the small group of armed Humans waiting on the other side, he quickly throws himself back through to report.

Skull immediately orders all of his Orcs ahead. They obey and charge blindly through a barrier they don't see, shrugging off the jolt as they cross. Raised boomsticks are there to greet them.

Lack of training with the firearms leads to only two Orcs taking fatal damage from the first loud volley of bullets. There is no time to reload the weapons as the remaining foes race forward, erasing the distance between them.

Two soldiers quickly fall to heavy Orc weaponry as the two sides meet. One of the Orcs that took some damage from the boomsticks is finished off by Moore who is then cleaved almost in two from behind by Skull's large sword. The wolf's teeth tear through another soldier nearby.

Lothar easily dispatches the Orc that has challenged him, but then gets to watch as Lind's head is obliterated in a spray of red beneath a war hammer.

One of the largest male Orcs is taken down by two soldier working together as Lothar moves towards his next target.

Skull and his wolf work together and have no trouble ending the party's healer and one of the female soldiers with blade and fangs.

Khadgar has moved to the mouth of the cave and is watching the battle from behind Taylor, who has his sword drawn and ready. He looks for any way he can help with his magic, but everyone is moving too quickly for him to get any spells off without chancing hitting his own men.

The Humans' luck runs out. Two more men are dispatched, leaving Trinda, Lothar, and one other soldier alone against four Orcs, Skull, and his wolf. Well... three Orcs. A female Orc spots Taylor and Khadgar in the cave and begins covering the distance to them. Powerful strides will have her there shortly.

Despite having two strong Orcs to fight against all by himself and barely being able to hold his own, Lothar sees the Orc heading towards the cave and yells to Khadgar, “Get to Stormwind!”

The mage doesn't want to leave Lothar behind. He steps across to the other side of the cave entrance as he speaks the words that send a spell barreling into one of the Orcs that is attacking Lothar, leaving a sheep in its place.

A bleat escapes the shocked Orc which draws the attention of the wolf. It turns its attention to the sheep from trying to get close to the soldier that Skull is fighting, hunting instincts kicking in. The Orc in sheep's clothing sees the predator focus on him and starts to run. He doesn't make it far before powerful jaws close around his small, fluffy body, dispatching him instantly. The contact from the wolf breaks the spell and the dead animal returns to his dead Orc form. The sudden shift in size and weight causes the wolf to drop his body as it drags its head down. Confused, the wolf remains with the Orc to inspect his kill, nudging him with its nose.

Khadgar is preparing another Polymorph spell when the female Orc is intercepted and engaged by Taylor just in front of the cave entrance. His line of sight to any of the other Orcs is blocked and he lets the spell die. He hears Lothar yell at him once again to get out of there over the sound of weapons clanging against each other.

Taylor takes a nasty hit from one of the Orc's large daggers and it becomes obvious that he isn't going to win the fight, but he's going to try to last as long as he can to protect Khadgar. He also yells at their mage to get back to Stormwind, to let the Queen know what happened here.

Khadgar knows they are right. Even if he stays and can defeat the female Orc who will be coming for him as soon as she is through Taylor, he can't do anything to help the three last soldiers who are fighting for their lives against an Orc each. They are too close to their opponents. Short of running up and beaning the Orcs on the head with Atiesh, his skills are useless in this situation. Combining those thoughts with the knowledge that it would be a very bad thing for the Orcs to get their hands on at least a few of the magical items he has stuffed in the linen bag in the cave, he decides to follow their orders. Once he's dropped the bag off in Stormwind and grabbed a few reinforcements, he can use a portal to come right back to try to help. Armed with a plan, he moves further into the cave and pulls Atiesh from his back. Having learned how to draw the portal runes with the staff like Medivh had been able to do, he has the magical circle completed in no time. Holding Atiesh in his right hand, he reaches down and picks up the box containing the dragons with his left. Completely focused on his escape, he doesn't notice Taylor fall. He doesn't hear the thumps the female Orc's heavy boots make against the stone floor as she moves past the dying soldier and runs towards him. He definitely doesn't have time to defend himself as she suddenly slams into him shoulder first as he turns to put the box into the bag.

Wood against stone. The box containing the dragons skitters across the floor of the cave as Khadgar falls, his staff landing beside him. The collision has knocked him out before he even hits the ground.

The female Orc assumes that if the warlock of this group of small-teeth thought this box was important, she'd better bring it to their leader. She heard the sound Khadgar's head made when it hit the stone floor and she doesn't bother to check to see if he still lives. She regains her feet, steps over Khadgar, and retrieves the box. Once it is in her hands, she makes her way out of the cave and towards where Garnok and the two remaining Orcs are overpowering the last of the Humans.

The world around him quickly and painfully returns to Khadgar. Despite the brief loss of consciousness, he promptly remembers what is going on. He can still hear the metal weapon noises in the distance so he knows that not much time has passed. 'The dragons! Where are the dragons?!' The box is nowhere to be found. Khadgar grabs Atiesh, struggles to his feet, and stumbles painfully to the mouth of the cave. He spots the Orc that attacked him and can only watch helplessly as she takes the box towards the Orc with the skull mask.

Skull bellows orders in a language Khadgar can't understand as she approaches the soldier fighting against their leader from behind.

Following his orders, the female Orc kicks at the back of the soldier's knees, knocking his legs out from under him. Garnok disarms his fallen opponent. Moments later, Trinda's Orc, Nose Ring, knocks her weapon from her hands and pushes her over, holding her down against the ground with a large boot. The female Orc grabs the male Human at her feet and tosses him over to where Trinda is pinned. Nose Ring places the soldier on the ground next to Trinda, his foot now holding two prisoners in place. Lothar is now the only soldier still standing against four Orcs. Khadgar knows he is about to watch his friend die. It isn't wise for the Regent Lord of Stormwind to be taken prisoner.

Lothar charges the Orc he's been fighting, trying to take out another one of them before the end. The Orc parries his attack as he moves past and he turns around towards the Orc again. Now Lothar is facing the cave and sees that Khadgar is still there. He saw Taylor buy the mage enough time to escape and he is furious that soldier's sacrifice was in vain. While he is focusing on the cave, he doesn't notice Skull moving in behind him. His exhausted muscles shaking, he raises his sword for one last charge at the Orc in front of him. Before he can move forward, a large Orc hand wraps around the back of his head and neck and another snakes around his right side and large fingers wrap around both of his wrists. The hand on his wrists squeezes until he has to drop the sword or have his hands crushed.

Once he drops his sword, his wrists are released. The vice around his head remains in place. Lothar reaches up with both hands to try to pull the fingers away from his head. His own fingers make no progress against the strong and immovable green ones. He looks back to Khadgar at the mouth of the cave and doesn't say a word. His eyes do all the talking.

Khadgar understands. He knows he's being told one last time to get out of there. He nods and watches relief wash over Lothar's face. With a small and pitiful wave goodbye, he turns and heads back into the cave. The bag of magical items winks out of existence along with the mage as he retrieves and releases the focus of the still active portal spell. As he disappears, the barrier around the camp dissipates.

The male Orc in front of Lothar steps up to him and says something to him in Orcish with a sneer. Lothar glares back and insults the Orc's parentage. Sadly, his comment doesn't translate. The hatred in his eyes is unmistakable across language barriers though.

The hand that is holding him in place is suddenly no longer there and his legs threaten to give out. As fast as the hand disappears, it returns. A fist smashes into the left side of his head, knocking him out cold. Lothar doesn't get to enjoy his body's uncontrolled drop to the ground. Nor does he get to experience the male Orc roughly checking him for weaponry and claiming the small dagger he finds for himself.

Under commands from Garnok, the Orcs repeat the search with all of the prisoners and then bind the Humans' wrists and ankles with thin leather strips. Once they are secured, the female Orc hands the wooden box to Garnok and moves to the female prisoner. Each Orc picks up a bound Human, throwing their prisoner over a shoulder. Garnok stuffs the box into a pouch on his belt and remounts the wolf. The Orcs set off in the direction they came from, heading back to the trees on the far side of the hollow. Their scouting trip a surprising success.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this section in six hours tonight. I'm sure I'll find errors and things to fix later today after I get some sleep, but it looks okay to my mushed brain as of right now.
> 
> (Edited it a bit this morning to fix a few small things. Nothing major.)


	11. Magic Fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The continuing mis-adventures of the remnants of our hiking club.

* * *

 

The familiar interior of his quarters in Stormwind Keep greets Khadgar as the world forms around him again. Unsure where Queen Taria might currently be in the city at this time of night, his choice of destination is closer to both the infirmary and her residence in the castle than the throne room would have been and time is of the essence.

He leaves the bag of magical goods in the middle of the space he’s set aside for making portals in the corner of his living room. They’ll be safe enough there for the immediate future. Now to find the Queen and see about getting a rescue underway.

Khadgar makes it a little over half the distance to the door before the world begins to tilt and spin around him. Unable to keep his balance, he stumbles and falls to the stone floor. For the second time in less than fifteen minutes, darkness claims him.

 

* * *

 

Lothar’s head hurts. The intensity of the pain radiating from his left temple makes it hard to think as he regains consciousness. All he can see is darkness surrounding him as he opens his eyelids slightly. Everything feels really, really wrong. His hurting brain can’t figure out why his head is resting against something that is solid, yet moving. Something that is comprised of both smelly fur and warm, bare skin. He can’t get his eyes to focus in order to get a better look.

Everything around him is moving, yet he can barely move. Nothing makes sense.

A gruff voice speaks nearby, but it is not speaking Common. Another responds in the same unknown language. Lothar turns his head to try to get a better view of where the other voice is coming from just as whatever he is resting against drops a short distance. As the descent comes to an abrupt halt, his injured head bumps into the solidness beneath him hard enough to knock him out again.

 

* * *

 

‘Why… why am I on the floor?’ Khadgar wonders as he opens his eyes. He finds himself lying on his side on the floor in his quarters. His brain begins piecing the events together that lead to his nap on the cool grey stones beneath him. ‘Gotta find the Queen.’

His hand finds a puddle of tacky dark red liquid as he attempts to roll over and stand up. ‘Where did that come from?’ Khadgar looks down at himself and discovers that it came from him. His abdomen, to be exact. The events in the cave come back to him and he realizes the injury must have occurred when the female Orc smashed into him in the cave. Any number of pointy bits on her armor could have been responsible.

Khadgar makes it to his knees and inspects the cut through the damage to his clothing. He can tell it’s not a major injury and it looks as though it stopped bleeding while he was unconscious. Knowing that he’s not going to bleed to death anytime soon, he struggles to his feet and heads for the door.

Through the door, out into the hallway, down the hall, and into the common room shared by those that live near him. Into the next hallway and towards the royal common room he goes. The dizziness that has plagued him since waking intensifies and he almost falls. The wall to his left keeps him upright when he leans up against it. As Khadgar is trying to figure out how to cover the last bit of distance to his destination, Karos exits the very room he’s trying to get to.

\-----

Unbeknownst to Khadgar, Llane finally woke from his coma a day into their expedition. The King is weak and sleeps most of the day, but he’s mentally sound and on the road to recovery. Karos had been leaving to fetch some item requested by the healer who is currently looking after Llane.

Karos sees the young mage leaning against the wall, covered in blood, and rushes to his side. Questions tumble from his mouth without pause. “What are you doing here? What happened? Are you okay? Where is everyone else?” He knows that it’s too soon for them to be returning, and the blood is a bad sign. “Where is Lothar?”

Khadgar answers just as disjointedly. “Gotta see the Queen. We were ambushed by Orcs. Most of the men were killed. Lothar and a few others were taken prisoner.” Khadgar attempts to push himself off of the wall so he can resume his trip to the next room only to find that his swimming head still won’t let him manage walking on his own.

Karos moves to support Khadgar and helps him make his way to the private common room that connects to the royal living quarters. Once inside the room, he helps Khadgar lie down on a comfortable couch. “Stay here. I’ll go tell Llane and Taria what has happened and bring their healer back with me.”

“He’s awake?”

“Yes. He woke up shortly after you left.”

“That’s good,” Khadgar mumbles as he starts to fade out again.

Karos leaves him semi-conscious on the couch and goes to inform the King and Queen about what has occurred. The healer looking after Llane leaves the royal quarters to take care of Khadgar while Karos helps Taria move Llane out of their bed and into his wheeled chair so that the he can move into the common room to speak with Khadgar.

\-----

“What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?” a familiar female voice pulls Khadgar back to the world.

“Hannah… hey…” In his groggy state he’s forgotten about his injuries and tries to sit up to greet the beautiful young lady who is kneeling beside the couch he is lying on.

She quickly stops him with gentle hand on his shoulder. “Sir Karos said you got into a scuffle with an Orc.”

“I don’t think there was much scuffling involved. I do seem to remember getting run over by one though.” Only after the words leave his mouth does he realize he should have said something that sounded braver and more impressive.

“Honest patients are my favorite,” Hannah says with a bright smile as her fingers make quick work of the belt that keeps his long sleeveless outer layer in place. She pulls the warm material out of the way and tugs his thick long sleeved blue shirt up so she can get a look at the damage to his stomach.

A blush tinges his cheeks as she undresses his upper half. She notices.

“It’s not that deep of a wound, it looks like it just bled a lot. Hold still for me and I’ll fix you right up.”

She quietly speaks the words of a healing spell and the yellow tinged runes flow around her hands as the magic knits him back together.

Khadgar has required a healer’s attention more than once in his life, especially during his time training as the Guardian Novitiate with the Kirin Tor. Compared to the careful and gentle way Hannah weaves her spell through his flesh, even Dalaran’s Master Healers were brutes. He thinks he could spend all day under her healing fingers and still want more.

Her voice brings him back from the edge of falling asleep. “Are there any other injuries that require my attention?” she asks as she pulls his shirt back down.

“I think I hit my head during the.. uh.. scuffle.” He points to the tender spot at the back of his head. “I’ve been a bit dizzy since I woke up in my room.”

“Let me take a look.” She turns his head so that he is facing the back of the couch and gently runs her fingers along his scalp, through his hair, watching for when he shows signs of it hurting him. Once she determines where exactly the damage is, she begins another round of healing.

\-----

Karos pushes Llane’s wheeled chair into the common room while Hannah is healing Khadgar’s head. Taria is only a step behind the two men.

The King’s voice interrupts the silence. “How is our young mage faring? Hopefully his injuries aren’t too severe.”

Hannah stops her spell at the question and both she and Khadgar turn to face Llane.

“He should survive quite handily, Your Majesty,” she assures him. “Just a little more healing and a little food, and he should be good as new.”

Llane thank her for taking care of the young man before asking Karos to find someone to fetch a meal for Khadgar. He then settles in to listen to the details of what happened to the expedition. Taria sits down at the end of the couch by Khadgar’s feet, and Hannah continues her spell-work on his head.

Before Khadgar begins his tale, he tells Llane how good it is to see him awake and doing well.

Karos enters the room as Llane thanks Khadgar and says that he is pleased that he can return the sentiment.

Everyone listens intently as Khadgar tells them what befell the party, starting at the point they found the cave and continuing from there. He ends the story with the information about the Orcs taking Lothar and two soldiers captive as well as taking possession of the metal dragons.

“At least they don’t know how the dragons work,” Khadgar tries to end on an upbeat note.

Hannah has completed her work while he was talking and is now sitting on the floor next to the couch, waiting for him to finish.

Karos turns to Llane, “We need to organize a rescue effort immediately.”

“They can’t have gotten very far. I can make a portal back to the cave,” Khadgar volunteers.

“Let’s get some food and sleep in you first. You’re no good to us in your current condition,” Taria says as she leaves her place on the couch to retrieve the meal from the young girl who has entered the room and is waiting patiently for further instructions.

Llane continues where Taria left off, “We’ll send a scout after them and gather information about the situation before we make any solid plans. Stormwind’s soldiers are well trained, and if anyone can survive, it’s Anduin.”

Khadgar wants to argue with them. It’s his fault they were there, his fault they’re prisoners now, his fault they could be on their way to a painful death, but… Taria and Llane are speaking sense, as much as he doesn’t want to hear it. He knows they’re as worried about Lothar as he is, probably more so, and that they will do everything in their power to get him and the others back safely.

Taria returns to the couch with the food and waits while Hannah helps him sit up. The Queen places the tray holding delicious smelling stew and warm bread on his lap. Hannah adds a small vial to the tray, “A health potion for dessert.”

He thanks them both and begins eating.

Llane sends Karos out to find a scout for a bit of reconnaissance work. While Khadgar eats, Taria and Llane get more details out of him about what happened. Hannah excuses herself to return to the infirmary while they are talking, and Karos returns with a woman dressed in dark leather.

Tabitha Caldwell is the name she gives. Scouting is one way the professional rogue pays her bills. She is quickly filled in on what has happened and what they will require of her.

Though the meal is delicious, Khadgar doesn’t manage to get that much of it down before he becomes too tired to continue eating. The events of the day and the healing spells have taken a lot out of him. At his request, Taria takes the tray away and he swallows Hannah’s potion before lying down on the couch again.

Taria retrieves a blanket from a nearby reading nook and drapes it across the already sleeping mage as she returns and rejoins the discussion and rescue planning.

 

* * *

 

Rogue Caldwell is given use of one of the city’s gryphons to complete her task. Knowing exactly where the hollow is that Khadgar spoke of, she flies straight there. A trip that took Lothar’s men a more than a day and a half only takes her an hour and a half. Speedy things, these magical beasts.

The sun has risen during her flight, which makes it easy to spot the dead Orcs and soldiers near the base of the cliff wall as she arrives. She directs the gryphon to land nearby. In no time at all she has the Orc’s trail and is once again airborne. They seem to be making no effort to hide their trail, which makes following them incredibly easy.

 

* * *

 


	12. Rescue Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rescue effort commences!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lore questions after the chapter for people who know things. :D

* * *

 

A few hours after having woken up for a brief time in a strange and confusing situation, Lothar’s eyes open again. Nothing other than the color of the sky has changed and he feels just as terrible as before.

The moving thing underneath him comes to a sudden stop. His head spins. Why is the ground above him? Why is the ground suddenly rushing towards him? The solidness his body has been hung roughly over is unexpectedly gone. He finds it replaced by cool, soft earth and grass against his right side.

Early morning sunlight makes it through the treetops, bouncing across his face as the tree branches dance in a slight breeze. Lothar wishes it wouldn’t. The light drills into his head, intensifying his already excruciating headache. He squeezes his eyelids shut to try to block it out.

A nearby voice asks him if he’s okay. The voice sounds familiar, but for the life of him he can’t figure out why. The only thing he does know for sure is that it feels like there’s a large knife embedded in his skull.

He tries to bring a hand up to his head to figure out why it hurts, but discovers that something is interfering with his ability to do so. Lothar cracks his eyes open and finds that his hands are bound in front of him.

The feminine voice speaks again, calling his name from somewhere past his feet. He manages a, “What?” and tries to focus his blurry eyes on the source. He is finally able to make out that the voice is coming from one of his soldiers, who has been tied to the base of a tree, hands and ankles still bound. “Trinda? What’s going on?”

A male voice comes from somewhere behind her, coming from someone he can’t see. The man asks Lothar what he remembers.

“Khadgar,” a short pause while he thinks around the headache, “Dragons… Orcs…”

Trinda can see that he is confused and hurting and she turns to the hidden man to her right. “Jyhan, I think he has a concussion.”

“Khadgar?!” Lothar remembers seeing the Orc woman push past a falling soldier and into the cave that Khadgar was in, but he doesn’t remember what happened after that. He tries to sit up and look around for the mage, wanting to know that he survived, but doesn’t manage the sitting up part very well.

“He ported in time, he’s safe.” Trinda sees relief wash across his features and then pain as the headache and dizziness come rushing back.

He groans as nausea joins all of the other unpleasantness. Not relishing the idea of throwing up on himself, he manages to roll to his hands and knees before losing the meager contents of his stomach in the grass he’s been lying on. Lothar is thankful the leather bindings are flexible enough to have allowed him to keep a tiny bit of dignity in this situation.

Lothar’s movement attracts the attention of the Orc that has been tasked with keeping an eye on their prisoners. He gets up from the fallen log he’s been sitting on and comes over to investigate. When he sees what has happened he says something untranslatable, yet everyone can tell it was a statement of disgust. The Orc returns to his log and sits back down having seen that the injured one is in no shape to escape.

Once Lothar is sure his stomach isn’t going to rebel again, he slowly sits back on his heels and brings his bound hands up to his head. He gingerly explores the left side of his head with his fingers, finding a large amount of dried blood on his skin and in his hair. A fingertip grazes a tender spot near his temple, causing a fresh wave of nausea. He decides not to investigate any further for now.

The Orc continues watching the weakened Human from a distance.

Lothar is getting a bit shaky from the pain and from being sick and he is becoming incredibly tired despite having apparently been unconscious for awhile. His body says that it’s time to sleep even if he doesn’t want to. With the little bit of energy he has left, he crawls a short distance away from where he lost his dinner, slowly lowers himself onto his right side, curls up in a slightly shivery ball, and is asleep almost instantly.

Unable to do anything but watch Lothar during his brief time conscious, Trinda turns to her right and reports to Jyhan that their Commander doesn’t look good at all and that he’s passed out again.

A short time later the Orcs finish their meal break and untie the two prisoners from the tree. Nose Ring scoops up Lothar and places him over his shoulder again. The other soldiers fare the same. Once the prisoners are secure, the Orcs resume their march.

\-----

Trinda is glad that Lothar remains unconscious for the rest of the uncomfortable trip through the forest, although it worries her greatly.

 

* * *

 

Flying high enough above the treetops so as to not be noticed, Tabitha comes upon the Orcs while they have stopped for a meal. She instructs the gryphon to circle the camp while she uses her Gnome-made spy glasses to take a look at what is going on below. The trees are thick, but thanks to the high quality visual aid she can just make out that there are four Orcs, three prisoners, and a very large wolf. As she is alone, she is in no position to do anything for the Humans except gather as much intelligence as possible to help plan a rescue.

The Orcs have been traveling almost straight south through the forested area that runs through the center of the hilly land between Grand Hamlet and Karazhan since abducting Lothar and the others. Tabitha flies ahead, continuing in the same direction. A quarter of an hour after leaving the stalled Orcs, she finds a large encampment that she is not expecting to find.

A large plateau, cleared of trees, sticks up out of the forest that surrounds it. On this plateau is the beginning of an Orcish camp. It is obvious that it hasn’t been there long from the half-built state of quite a few of the structures. Sturdy living huts have been erected on the southeast end of the land and work has begun on guard towers and defenses. Roughly cut trees are piled around the camp, ready to be used in construction. Tabitha estimates the population of the camp to be forty Orcs, give or take, and most of them are working industriously around the site. The most notable resident that she spots can only be Garona. Her short stature has her standing out from the others of her kind quite obviously.

There are no paths leading to or from the camp other than the wide trail the Orcs have carved through the trees. It heads away to the southeast, towards the Black Morass.

Positive that this is where Lothar and the soldiers will end up, she quickly gathers as much information about the camp as possible that will be helpful in the formation of a rescue plan. With the details fresh in her mind, she turns the gryphon towards Stormwind and begins the journey back.

 

* * *

 

The smell of bacon greets Khadgar when he wakes up after a few hours of sleep. He sits up and finds a small gathering eating breakfast at the nearby dining table while waiting for the return of their scout. Llane is there in his wheeled chair, looking rather pale. With him are Karos, Taria, and a few of Stormwind’s advisers.

He is thrilled to find that the health potion has taken care of what Hannah’s spells have not. His stomach loudly reminds him that magical healing takes a lot of energy from a person that needs to be replaced. Taria beckons him over when she sees him stand, and he claims the open seat to her right. Before he’s fully settled, a castle worker is already setting a heaping plate of food in front of him. Khadgar thanks the young woman and digs in.

Not much later, their scout rushes into the room and delivers the news about the camp and the hostages. In reply to Taria’s question about the condition of the prisoners, all Tabitha can say for sure is that they are still alive.

Once she has given them all of the information she gathered about the camp, Llane instructs her to grab something to eat so she can get back out to the Orc camp and continue to act as their eyes and ears.

Everyone seated at the dining table in the royal common room begins to work together on a rescue plan while finishing up their meal.

\-----

Ideas are tossed out for consideration. Most are rejected.

There aren’t enough gryphons available to quickly get an army large enough to the camp to take it by force. It will take too long to send men the same route Lothar’s group went. No one can think of a way to get enough people to that camp fast enough to make a difference. No one, except Khadgar.

“Maybe I could teleport everyone as far as the cave? Then we’d only be a half a day behind at the most,” he nervously suggests.

Llane looks to the young man and points out the flaw in his plan, the reason he almost didn’t bring it up in the first place. “We will need to take enough men to be able to overcome thirty Orcs. Medivh’s portals could only handle around five men at a time and he always said that making multiple portals in a row would tire him out to the point of uselessness. In no way am I trying to insult you Khadgar, but you are not as strong as Medivh was. How would you be able to get at least twenty five men to that cave?”

“You are right, Medivh was stronger than I am. He was also using a lot of mana he didn’t realize he was using while doing the bidding of the demon that had compromised him. That is why he was always worn down. If it hadn’t been for that, he could have ferried all the men you want to take without even needing to rest afterward. I think I can do this, but I will need mana potions. Quite a few of them.”

“That can be arranged,” Taria adds to the conversation. “Won’t multiple potions make you sick though?” Her knowledge of alchemy is limited, but she remembers hearing that too many of any type of potion tends to be hard on a person.

“Probably.” Khadgar doesn’t look thrilled at the prospect. “I’m willing to take that risk if it means there’s a chance at getting them back alive.”

Karos speaks up, “We can bring someone with us to look after him while he recovers, and then he can make his way back to Stormwind when he is able to.”  
  
“Is this acceptable?” Llane asks Khadgar.

Khadgar nods his agreement.

Now that they have a mode of transportation figured out, they work together to hammer out the rest of the details.

\-----

Within an hour the supplies have been gathered and the rescue team assembled at one of the training grounds near the castle. Twenty four highly trained soldiers have arrived, wearing leather armor for stealth and speed. The remainder of Ironforge’s first delivery of boomsticks is spread amongst the men and they are quickly given a basic training session in their usage. Karos and Khadgar wait for them to finish along with Tabitha and the fresh gryphon she will be riding.  
  
As the training finishes and the men start to ready themselves for teleporting, one of the healers from the Keep arrives. Khadgar is a little disappointed that it’s not Hannah, but he also is glad that she won’t be put into possible danger. He recognizes the young man from the team that worked on Llane. The healer walks up to Khadgar and hands him a small leather satchel full of mana potions after an exchange of pleasantries.  
  
Llane isn’t well enough to make it out of the castle, so Taria attends their departure in his stead. She watches as Khadgar forms the first portal which takes Karos, Tabitha, the gryphon, the healer, and a soldier with him as it disappears. She watches as their mage pops back into existence only a few minutes later and takes another group of soldiers with him to the cave. Each time it takes longer for him to return, and each time he looks markedly less healthy. As he arrives for the last group, his legs give out and he ends up sitting in the dirt with Taria by his side. His assurances that he will be okay are overshadowed by his inability to get the stopper out of the mana potion he has pulled from the bag. She takes it from him, removes the cork, and hands it back to him. She worries about the gray pallor of his skin and the shakiness of his hands as he takes the vial from her, but she doesn’t say anything further, trusting that he knows what he is doing. With her help, he makes it to his feet after the potion does its work. With her helping to keep him upright, he forms the last portal. The last few soldiers step in and one takes Khadgar’s weight from Taria so she can step out. Before she does so, she kisses him on the cheek in a motherly fashion and tells him to rest and recover on the other side. He smiles at her as he disappears.

All the Queen can do now is hope and pray that they are successful and her brother is returned to her safely.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In delving into the lore at the time of the movie, I discovered I may have made a small mistake earlier in my story.
> 
> In the movie Taria mentions Grand Hamlet, which the internet informed me was actually Darkshire before the Orcs destroyed it in their invasion, and that Duskwood was actually just known as Southern Elwynn Forest at that point. Sometime later it got all gloomy and the names changed.
> 
> I've also been wondering about Deadwind Pass. The internet says that the area around Karazhan was previously just known as part of the Redridge Mountains. I'm assuming that the area is renamed to Deadwind after the area around the tower takes a turn for the destroyed.
> 
> Do I have any lore-knowledgeable people who can help me out here? I'm going to go back and fix things based on what I learned today unless anyone with more info steps up to the plate to help me clear things up.


	13. "If you want to conquer the world, you best have dragons."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prisoners are brought into the Orc camp while their rescuers start trekking towards them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote that is the chapter title belongs to George R.R. Martin and comes from 'A Dance With Dragons'.

* * *

 

By the time Khadgar has made it back to the cave with the last of the troops, Ms. Caldwell has already made herself at home in a secure and hidden spot just into the trees at the outskirts of the Orc camp. From her vantage point she can observe quite a bit of the camp and she sketches out a detailed map of the layout of it for the rest of the rescue team. The gryphon, not currently needed, gets sent back to the cave so as to not be discovered by the Orcs. Despite the distance, all she has to do is call and it will return. Her map and a few notes return to the cave with the beast.

\-----

During the half an hour it takes Khadgar to get all of the men to the cave site, the first soldiers to arrive have respectfully gathered the bodies of the original party and placed them in the back of the cave. They leave the Orcs to rot in the elements. While helping with the bodies, Karos finds Lothar’s lion-headed sword in the grass and straps it onto the gryphon’s saddle when it returns to them. Caldwell’s map allows him to start thinking about a plan of attack.

Karos notices how much of a toll the multiple portals are taking on their mage and isn’t at all surprised to see him fully supported by one of the men in the last group when they appear. The healer that has come with them takes charge of Khadgar’s care as soon as they have him resting comfortably just inside of the cave. Once Karos is sure that no irreparable damage has been done by the overuse of mana potions and that Khadgar will just need some time to recover before he can return to Stormwind, he gathers his men and they head out. The Orc’s trail is not hard to find.

The gryphon, following orders from Karos, settles down outside the mouth of the cave to protect the two men inside while Khadgar rests.

 

* * *

 

A darkening sky brings with it the threat of rain as the Orc scouting party makes its way back into the base camp in the early afternoon. Their Human prisoners are still slung over their shoulders. Garnok slides from the back of his wolf and grabs the arm of the first Orc they pass. “Go inform Gul’dan that we’ve returned with something that might be of interest to him as well as a few Human prisoners. I will make my way to his tent shortly.” His rank in the Horde power structure gives him the expectation that his order will be followed with no questions asked. Before he can report to their leader, he has to make sure the prisoners have been secured.

The camp is still in the early stages of construction and the focus has been on housing and defense so far. There has been no need of cages for the holding of prisoners. Garnok leads his party towards the northwestern half of the camp where there is an open area that will work for his plans. As they make their way to the cleared land, he instructs Ner’thar in how he wants the prisoners contained. The method is one used quite often by his clan. The Orc Lothar named Nose Ring listens to the orders while they walk through the camp. When they arrive at the clearing Garnok puts him in charge of making sure the task is completed as instructed and then heads out in the direction of Gul’dan’s tent. Just one stop is required along the way to leave his wolf with the others of its kind in the nearby pen.

\-----

Ner’thar removes Lothar from his shoulder and lays him down on his back on the ground below. The female Orc deposits Trinda on the dirt next to him and follows Ner’thar to collect the supplies they will need. Jyhan’s Orc drops him carelessly near the other two and settles in nearby to keep an eye on the Humans.

Despite the leather bindings making it difficult to do so, Trinda pulls herself close to Lothar so she can examine his head injury. When their watch-Orc makes no move to stop her, she carefully turns his head to get a better look. He begins to stir at her attention. His eyes open lethargically and she moves into his line of sight and his eyes connect with hers. She can tell that he recognizes her immediately, which is a good sign, but it quickly becomes obvious that he’s forgotten that they are prisoners as their surroundings confuse him.

She fills him in on what has happened since they were abducted at the cave. While she does so, Ner’thar and the female Orc return with three sturdy, roughly-hewn poles, three shorter poles of a smaller diameter, more leather strips, and some tools for digging. The Orcs have obviously begun using surrounding materials for construction, not just relying on the bones and tusks from their homeland.

With the help of a few Orcs that get pressed into service as they pass through the area, Ner’thar quickly has the three larger poles planted vertically in the earth. They are spread roughly equal distance from each other in a triangular pattern with close to fifteen feet of open ground between each pole. Ner’thar approaches the prisoners, grabs Jyhan by the back of the coat, and drags him over to the closest pole, which is no bigger in diameter than the Human's neck.

Trinda and Lothar watch as the Orc with the nose ring uses an angry Jyhan as a demonstration as to how Garnok wants them secured.

The knife Ner’thar confiscated earlier from Lothar makes quick work of the leather binding the man’s wrists. With how sharp he keeps the blade, Lothar is glad to see that the leather is all the Orc slices.

Once the Human’s hands are free, Ner’thar pushes him back so that he is sitting snugly against the vertical pole, feet still bound in front of him. He motions to one of the other Orcs, who brings one of the smaller poles and a long strip of leather to him. As he grabs Jyhan’s left wrist and attempts to tie one end of the strip around it, the soldier tries to struggle free and earns himself a broken nose from a backhanded slap to the face for his troubles. Once the Human learns his lesson and stops moving, Ner’thar ties the end securely around Jyhan’s wrist and then lets the rest drop to the ground. He moves around behind the prisoner and takes the smaller pole from his helper. Ner’thar arranges the thinner pole perpendicular to the thicker post, lining up the shallow notch he’s cut into the smaller piece of wood with the larger pole. He grabs Jyhan’s left arm, pulling it back and over the horizontal pole, placing it so that the bicep rests on top of the wood and the rest of his arm hangs down from there. The right arm's position is promptly made to mirror the left's. Ner’thar has his helper hold the pole in place while he moves around to Jyhan’s front, grabbing the hanging leather strip as he does so. He pulls the loose end of the thin leather towards him, pulling Jyhan’s hand with it. Invading Jyhan’s personal space, he grabs the prisoner’s other hand and brings it as far forward as it will go, trapping the cross-pole between the crooks of the man’s elbows and the vertical post. When he can pull no further without damaging Jyhan's arm joints, he wraps the loose end of the leather around the unbound wrist. He checks to make sure everything is tight enough to keep the man secure, and finishes the job with one last knot to the wrist binding.

Ner’thar examines his work to make sure that there’s no way the Human can escape. The strip of leather stretched between the man’s hands and across his stomach provides the pressure needed to keep the cross-pole in place. The small notch in the pole will prevent the prisoner from being able to work it from side to side while still allowing it to slide up and down. Before he walks away, he cuts the leather binding Jyhan’s ankles.

Once the demonstration is complete, Trinda and Lothar are separated and fastened to the other poles in the same manner as Jyhan, minus the escape attempt. Trinda doesn’t fight because she wants to avoid injury, and Lothar lets them tie him up peacefully because he’s still dealing with dizziness and doesn’t feel well enough to resist.

One of the recruited Orcs sticks around to guard them, while Ner’thar and his companions head off to get a meal. A loud argument nearby grabs the Orc’s attention and while he’s looking away Trinda and Jyhan test their bonds.

In no time at all they conclude their imprisonment is well implemented, inescapable, and spectacularly uncomfortable.

With immediate escape not in the cards, Trinda checks on Lothar’s status. Since the Orc finished tying him to his pole and walked away, he’s been sitting there with his head hanging forward, his longer hair hanging loosely around his face. She hasn’t been able to tell if he is awake or not and calls out to him. His head slowly turns to the right, towards her, and she can see that his situation doesn’t seem to be improving much.

“How are you feeling, Commander?” she asks when their eyes meet.

His response is immediate, which helps to reassure her that his brain is still working well. “I feel like I went three rounds with a mountain yeti and should have quit after the first.”

“How’s the head? Are you having trouble remembering?”

“It’s a little better. The dizziness is lessening. Can’t remember everything that happened at the cave and I only have your word about how we got here, but everything else seems to be in one piece from what I can tell. I feel like I could sleep for a week though.”

“I would feel better if we could get you to a healer. Head injuries aren’t to be taken lightly.”

Jyhan joins the conversation, “I don’t see that happening any time soon. We’re not going to be getting out of here. Maybe you could ask an Orc to take a look at him.” Sarcasm drips from his last words.

Trinda doesn’t appreciate his bitter, defeated tone and is about to say something snippy back when Lothar speaks first.

“Do not speak to her like that. She’s just trying to help.” He pauses to wait out a brief wave of dizziness, then continues, “Trinda says that Khadgar escaped. That means rescue will be coming, we just have to hold on. So no more stupid stunts. The Orcs are liable to break more than just your nose.”

Jyhan doesn’t share his superior’s optimism and he doesn’t appreciate being reprimanded in front of Trinda, but he knows that arguing with Lothar isn’t wise. So he simply nods in agreement, blood still dripping slowly down his face from his damaged nose.

“Before you know it, we’ll be back at the Lion’s Pride, drinking ourselves silly by a warm fire.” Trinda tries to lighten the mood.

Jyhan has to agree that that sounds pleasant, despite his bad mood. “Light willing.”

A few minutes pass without additional conversation and Lothar begins to lose the fight against his body’s desire for sleep. Before he can fade out again he asks the others to watch the workings of the camp. He wants them to look for patterns and weaknesses that can be exploited. He knows that Khadgar will send help, but he wouldn’t mind if they managed to save themselves first.

They both agree to do so just as the rain that has been threatening finally breaks loose. A few droplets fall at first and Jyhan grumbles.

Lothar looks up to the sky as the light rain turn into a drenching downpour. He has to agree with Jyhan’s complaint even though the miserable wetness might help him stay awake.

 

* * *

 

Garnok steps up to the largest and most unwelcoming tent in the camp. The interior is saturated with the color of Fel and the magical fire contained inside flickers with unnatural green flames. The entry flap is open, but he waits to be invited in. Moments later Gul’dan spots him at the entrance and motions for him to enter.

He steps into the tent and finds that Gul’dan is talking with one of his higher ranking Orcs. Garnok patiently waits for them to finish their conversation and is finally addressed after the warlock dismisses the other Orc.

“Grahl said you have something for me.”

Garnok holds the wooden box out to the current leader of the Horde, who looks at the plain container with skepticism.

“The Human warlock we encountered was trying to protect that box and he was being guarded by several warriors. I thought it might be something worthy of your attention.”

Gul’dan reaches out and takes the box from Garnok. He opens it to find the iron dragons, the original blood-stained note, and Khadgar’s translated copy inside. What catches his attention though is the increase in the level of magical power coming from what he holds in his hand once the box is opened. No one tries to hide something in this manner unless it is important. He sets the box down on a nearby flat surface and pulls the rolled parchment out for inspection. As all of the writing is in Common, he can’t read it. Gul’dan steps to the entrance of the tent and calls for a nearby Orc. He tells her to go find Garona and send her here.

As Gul'dan returns to the box, Garnok says, “We captured three prisoners, including the one that defeated Blackhand.”

Gul'dan's attention is ripped from the dragons at the news. Garnok has never seen Gul’dan giddy before, but this news puts the warlock in a mood that would be best described that way.

“He’s here? In the camp?” The Fel glowing in his eyes brightens with his excitement.

Garnok nods. “We’ve secured the prisoners near the cook tent.”

“Excellent.”

With a rather malevolent smile on his face, he turns back to his inspection of the box’s contents, leaving Garnok to stand and watch.

Gul’dan pulls one of the dragons out of the container. It looks quite a bit like the flying lizards he’s seen in parts of Draenor. The strong magic coming from the metal is not any type he has encountered before. It feels most similar to Fel, but more primal, less Demonic.

While he is poking at the dragon with his magic, Garona enters the tent without waiting for an invitation. The rain that has recently begun falling drips steadily from her hair and clothing and onto the dirt floor. Without looking up from his work, he asks her if she can read any of the notes that are next to the wooden box.

She steps forward and looks at the original scroll, careful not to let any of the rainwater she is still shedding damage the parchment. Despite having learned to read a fair amount of Common while with the Humans, she can only make out a few words. Khadgar’s copied notes are a different story.

Garona translates the writing to Gul’dan. She explains the purpose of the dragons, the instructions for their use, and passes along Khadgar’s additional comments about how the Blood based magic that powers them is similar in destructiveness to Fel with how it takes from one to strengthen another.

When she finishes, she looks up and asks him where these came from.

He tells her a scout brought them back, as well as some Human prisoners who will be perfect to test these items out on.

She cannot show her concern for the Humans' welfare in front of Gul’dan. Her position amongst the Orcs has cost too much to throw away over a few prisoners, but his news is worrisome.

He has her repeat the instructions to him until he is sure he understands the process fully and can speak the words of the short activation spell correctly. When he is satisfied with his preparations, he places the dragon he's been looking at into a pouch on his belt, moves to the entrance of the tent, and orders a passing Orc to find Toknar and send him to the clearing near the cook tent. Gul’dan tells the Orc to have the hunter bring with him the large beast he recently found while scouting.

“Take us to the Humans,” Gul'dan commands of Garnok while stepping back to allow the others exit from the tent. Once Garona and Garnok have made their way out, he follows them into the slowing rain.

 

* * *

  
 [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/trooberger/31445777380/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel as though I have failed to properly describe the way the Orcs tie up their prisoners in this instance and that people may see it in their heads differently than I am. I based the setup on an episode of Stargate Atlantis where the good guys get tied up similarly when they crash in a penal colony, but made a few changes that I think would make for better security. As I want everyone to be able to picture what I'm picturing, despite my poor wording, I've drawn (poorly!) a stick-prisoner!


	14. One Down, Two to Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An iron dragon is tested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a brief but unpleasant description of a death. Nothing you wouldn't see in a gory horror movie. If that's not your thing, you may not enjoy this chapter very much. Nor future chapters.
> 
> Merry Christmas everyone!

* * *

 

Trinda is shivering. The heavy rain is coming to a stop, but the damage is done. Her leather coat and pants have kept most of it from reaching her skin, but her braided hair is drenched. Cold water is dripping between the collar of her coat and her neck, soaking into the shirt underneath. It wasn't a warm day to begin with, and the temperature has dropped noticeably with the arrival of the clouds and precipitation.

She looks to her right where Jyhan is angrily trying to work his hands free from the leather binding them tightly. He looks miserable and is making no progress at all. From what she can see, he might even be making things worse for himself with his efforts. No good will come from her trying to tell him to save his energy, she knows he won't listen to her.

Her gaze moves across to the pole on her left. Lothar is still awake, which is an improvement. She can see that he is shivering as well. Like hers, his hair is absolutely soaked and water is dripping steadily from it and his beard. The rain has left barely a trace of the dried blood that had previously covered a good portion of the left side of his face, and now the darkening bruise underneath shows up vividly against his currently pale skin. While she is looking him over from a distance, his eyes move up from whatever he was staring at on the ground and connect with hers. Trinda can see that he's still struggling to stay awake.

“So, Commander… did you have any pets while you were growing up?” She tries to help him with the only idea she has. Conversation.

She sees the question, 'Why is she asking me this?' in the tilt of his head and the squint of his eyes.

“I had a fox when I was younger. He was the smartest little fella. I found him in our yard one morning with a broken leg. Father wanted to kill it... to put it out of its misery. Mother talked him out of it when she saw how badly I wanted to keep it. I nursed him back to health and then the little guy was so easy to train and he'd do tricks. Never went after the chickens...”

“What was his name?”

Lothar's question surprises her. She hadn't really expected him to be a pet person, nor care anything about her fox, but it was the first topic that had popped into her head.

“Archibald. Archie for short.”

“That's a fitting name for a fox,” Lothar's comment seems sincere. He continues, “My sister had all the pets. I never really had time for taking care of one.” A short pause and then, “Almost got a dog once. For hunting.”

He continues with the topic and is talking about how Callan had wanted a falcon for his tenth birthday when Trinda's attention drifts from Lothar to the approaching Orcs.

She recognizes their captor with the skull on his face, and she knows that the human-sized female Orc is Garona from seeing her during the short time she spent in Stormwind. Trinda has never seen Gul'dan before. She had been too sick at the time to participate in the battle in the Black Morass and had remained behind. There can be no mistaking the hunched and hooded figure with the spikes sprouting from his back. Tales from the soldiers who had been there and survived have described the monster in full detail.

Lothar's story about trying to talk Callan out of falconry trails off when he sees her looking at something behind him, between him and Jyhan.

The three Orcs appear along the pathway that the Humans were carried along earlier. They walk into view from behind the closely packed tents and huts. Gul'dan and Skull, for that is what Trinda calls him as well, have moved ahead of Garona on their way here and step into the middle of the trio first.

Garona follows at a short distance and stops near Jyhan to take in the sight of the makeshift stockades. Luckily, Trinda is the only one looking at her when she discovers that Lothar is one of the prisoners. The half-Orc regains her composure quickly, but she is not able to hide her initial shock at seeing him. In that fleeting moment, Trinda sees genuine concern, not a calculating betrayer. Gul'dan would have too if he'd been looking in Garona's direction.

Lothar doesn't see it because he is watching Gul'dan intently, hatred etched across his features. Trinda finally catches his attention and uses her eyes to direct him to Garona.

Surprise, yearning, sadness, anger… mostly the latter. These are the emotions Trinda sees from Lothar when he spots the woman he had fallen in love with standing less than twenty feet from him. A glance back at Garona reveals a fleeting look of sadness in reply, which is promptly hidden.

Their silent reunion is interrupted when Gul'dan turns to Garona and orders her to translate what he says. Garona nods. He turns and takes a few steps towards Lothar, the man's attention moving back to him.

“You escaped me before, but that will not happen here. Especially now that you are chieftain of the Humans,” Garona translates.

“News travels fast,” is Lothar's reply to Garona's words, which she translates back to Gul'dan.

“That it does,” the warlock continues, “I can only hope that word of what happens here today makes it back to your people just as quickly. That what I do to you will discourage the small-teeth when they hear.”

Lothar turns to Garona. “What is he talking about?”

Without translating his question to the Orcs, she explains that Gul'dan's intention is to test the metal dragons on them.

“How...?”

“He had me translate the instructions that were with them before I knew any of you were here. I had no idea,” she admits.

Before their non-translated conversation can draw any more attention than it already has, she turns her attention back to Gul'dan. As her words finish, the warlock commands the Orc that is guarding the prisoners to untie Lothar so he can begin the tests on him. The guard takes a few steps towards the man Gul'dan is pointing at but comes to a halt when Garona's voice rings out, “No!”

She can see that Gul'dan is about to reprimand her harshly for countering his command in front of everyone, so she continues with an explanation. “There is no guarantee that this is going to work. We should try it on another first in case something goes wrong.”

Gul'dan doesn't like being questioned like this, and he desires to pay the man named Lothar back for what happened in front of the Portal, but Garona's argument makes sense. Leaving him for last will force him to watch his failure as a leader play out in front of him before it is his turn. Gul'dan is pleased at this thought.

The Humans watch as the Orcs argue amongst themselves, but are unable to understand what is being said. While all of this is going on, another male Orc enters the clearing, a large bear following behind. He makes his way to Gul'dan as the conversation comes to an end and is greeted by the warlock. The bear seems strangely tame to Trinda, but then again, so are their wolves. The Orc says something to the bear in Orcish and it calmly lies down beside him.

The guard once again begins moving at the point of Gul'dan's finger. This time towards Jyhan.

Stopping in front of a defiant Jyhan, the guard slices through the leather between the man's wrists. Grabbing him by the shoulder of his coat, he pulls him to his feet and forward, away from the pole he's been sitting against. The cross-pole drops to the ground behind Jyhan as he is pulled towards Gul'dan, struggling to keep his feet under him the whole way.  
  
The guard presents Jyhan to Gul'dan, holding him securely in place with a strong Orcish hand. Following further instructions from their leader, he pulls out a knife and turns Jyhan around to face him. The knife slices through the fastenings on his coat and he is turned back around again. The guard pulls the man's coat back and downward, caring not how roughly he does so. After the garment is discarded to the side, the knife makes a clean slice down the back of his thick shirt. Parting it completely, causing a shallow cut the length of Jyhan's back, and leaving him naked from the waist up.

“Turn him around and hold him still,” Gul'dan orders the guard. Green hands spin Jyhan around once more and grasp both of his upper arms to hold him in place.

Gul'dan reaches to the pouch on his belt and removes the iron dragon from it. Holding it up for everyone around to see, he steps towards the Human.

Lothar calls to Garona, asking her to stop this.

“There is no way. I am sorry,” is her reply.

Not wanting to sit by and do nothing to prevent this, Lothar tries to get free of his bindings for the first time. Trinda tries again as well. Neither make any headway in getting loose.

Jyhan begins to struggle. He doesn't want to submit to this willingly. The hands on his arms clamp down harder and the bone in his upper arm cracks under the pressure. A pained noise escapes him and he stops fighting to stop the Orc from squeezing any harder.  
  
Gul'dan comes to a stop behind the trembling Human. He lines the dragon up along Jyhan's upper spine, and when he is happy with the placement, drives it forward.

The spike sinks into his spine and Jyhan once again cries out in pain.

Gul'dan takes a step back and looks to the resting bear. The animal doesn't even have time to respond when the life is pulled from it by Gul'dan's magic. It simply shrivels in place and dies. What has been stolen from the bear is then channeled into the dragon as the scroll instructed. The process is practically identical to how he brought Draka's sickly baby back to life. He feels a resistance from the dragon as he begins, but funnels the life force into it anyway. The metal of the dragon glows red, tinged with flickering green.

Jyhan's reaction is immediate. He starts screaming. His body spasms uncontrollably.

Everyone around watches as his body begins to change unnaturally. The Orc holding onto him lets go and backs away quickly. With nothing supporting him, Jyhan drops to his knees and then falls onto his side, shaking violently the whole time.

Trinda has never seen anything like this, but Lothar has. While not present during the transformation, he's seen the results of what the Fel did to Blackhand and this looks a lot like what that process must have. Muscles expand, body parts change and deform. Jyhan keeps screaming throughout. The blood-curdling cries are drowned in a gurgle and then come to a sudden stop as his body gives one last violent shudder and moves no more. His red, blood filled eyes are staring straight ahead at nothing. Blood begins running out of his nose and mouth, pooling on the ground beneath his head.

Gul'dan is furious that the dragon didn't work correctly. Kneeling down behind the body, he inspects the results. He finds that the dragon is warped and smoking and no longer seems to have any magic in it at all. It has also become so melded into the flesh of the body that it cannot be removed. It is totally unusable.

He tells one of the Orcs who stopped to watch the proceedings to dispose of the body and the bear and then orders Garona to follow him. He sneers at Lothar as he departs for his tent, the Fel in his eyes glowing brightly with his anger.

Garona walks up to Lothar on her way past and tells him that she will do what she can to prevent any further experiments, but that she cannot make any promises.

Lothar doesn't know what to say to her and simply lets the disbelief written across his face speak for him. He doesn't miss the brief look of sorrow on hers before she continues after Gul'dan. After she has gone, he turns to Trinda, his dizziness buried under a flood of adrenaline.

“We have to get out of here before he tries again.”

She nods a shaky agreement. She's absolutely terrified of what just happened.

They both continue working unsuccessfully at their restraints while Jyhan is removed from the area. A trail of blood and fluid leaks from his body as he is carried out of sight.

 

* * *

 

Rogue Caldwell is sickened by what just happened to Jyhan. Her vantage point has allowed her to see the whole thing from a distance. She writes a quick note that includes the information that Gul'dan is in the camp and tells of what just happened. Having brought a small cage of carrier birds with her for this purpose, she attaches the message to one of them and sends it back along the trail towards the rescue party.

 

* * *

 

Gul'dan storms back into his tent, still fuming about his failure. He pulls the wooden box from where he has hidden it and is inspecting one of the four remaining dragons for defects when Garona arrives only minutes later. Before either of them can say anything to the other, Lur'gul, one of Gul'dan's council of warlocks, walks into the tent.

“Why have you summoned me?” he asks Gul'dan as he comes to a halt.

Only his fellow warlocks and Garona are allowed any leeway when it comes to questioning his orders. Anyone else would have just earned severe punishment for that question.

“I want your thoughts on why the first one of these,” he holds the dragon in his hand up for Lur'gul to see, “didn't work correctly.” To Garona, “Read the scrolls to him.”

She does.

Lur'gul inquires about what went wrong, and when Gul'dan explains the resistance he felt, as though the dragon didn't like what was offered to it, Lur'gul asks what was used to power the dragon. When he hears that it was a bear, he gives voice to his thoughts that the spells probably require a life form equal to a Human or an Orc. Something similar in advancement.

Gul'dan is not thrilled at the prospect of sacrificing the life of one of his Orcs as his ability to bring reinforcements through the Portal is not available and they currently have no way of bolstering their numbers. If he can only get the dragons to work as intended on the Humans, maybe they can be used on Orcs as well. That sort of payoff might just be worth the cost of a few Orc lives. His decision comes easily and he announces that they will try again after the evening meal, which should be ready shortly.

Garona voices her opposition to the idea, but Gul'dan brushes her objection off and points out that she seems a little too caring towards the prisoners.

“I am simply concerned about the loss of Orc lives over something that has a good chance of failing. The Horde will not take kindly to you sacrificing its members for nothing.” She covers her slip with cold logic.

“I have made my decision. Go. Eat. We will meet back in the clearing in an hour to try again.” Gul'dan shoos everyone out of his tent and slips the new dragon into his pouch before heading out for a meal himself.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Adding this note on 12/18/16: The next chapter is going to be delayed slightly longer than usual. I had another idea pop into my head and it's forcing me to write it down before I lose it. Can't do both at once apparently. Thankfully the new idea is very short.)
> 
> (Another note on 12/30/16: Having just watched the emotionally wrecking episode of Vikings from this Wednesday, I think it's going to take me a few extra days to get my head back into this. Every time I sit down to write Lothar... I just... can't. I've used so much of Ragnar's expressions/voice/mannerisms in my head to base a lot of Lothar off of, because let's face it, they're the same character... If they don't hand Travis Fimmel every acting award for that episode I am personally going to riot in the streets.)
> 
> I am actually incredibly pleased with how this chapter turned out. The next one or two should be just as awesome, if not more so based on what's in store. *fingers crossed*
> 
> Thank you to Meshie. I've stolen and used your suggestion of "stockade" as the description for their pole restraints. Seemed fitting.
> 
> I have to think that Orcs have different words for telling time. Probably even different units of time because the time on Draenor would probably be different than the time on Azeroth. For ease of storytelling, I'm going to pretend that when they talk about time they're using their words and units and I'm magically translating what they say into words and units that we all understand. Aka: Author magic!


	15. Momma Said There's be Days Like This... Well.. Maybe Not *Exactly* Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second dragon is tested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains a scene with slight, unsexy nakedness. It also contains more gore and death.

* * *

 

Trinda has managed to work her way up to a standing position while trying to escape her restraints. Neither she nor Lothar have gotten anywhere in their attempts to break free. He can see the tears of frustration running down her cheeks as she continues trying.

Head injury induced dizziness has ended his work on his bindings not long after it began. The nausea has returned and Lothar has had to stop exerting himself.

The only thing they've had to drink since getting captured is the small amount of rainwater they managed to catch in their mouths during the squall earlier. They’ve had no food and he lost the remnants of his last meal on the trip here. Neither soldier is in top shape at the moment.

The sun is starting it’s nightly decent and the temperature is dropping slightly. Rain once again threatens in the distance.

 

* * *

 

Not long after Jyhan’s death, the rescue team receives Tabitha’s message about what has occurred.

The news that Gul’dan is at the camp worries Karos and his men greatly. They haven’t come prepared to deal with him and his magics and the difficulty of the rescue just escalated. Lothar’s second in command writes his reply in standard code so that if it gets intercepted by the Orcs, their position won’t be compromised as Garona will not be able to translate it. The messenger bird flies away towards the rogue with his enclosed message that contains their current location and how soon they should arrive based on her scouting information.

While they take a short break, they rest, eat some of their rations, and discuss tactics for dealing with Gul’dan.

 

* * *

 

The Orc’s evening meal concludes and those that attended the first testing of a dragon return to the poles along with others who have heard what will be going on. The prisoners can only watch as the area around them is quickly filled with curious onlookers. Gul’dan, Garona, and Lur’gul are the only Orcs inside the space between the poles.

Wasting no time, Gul’dan instructs an Orc from the crowd to cut the female loose, remove her upper garments, and hold her in place for him. The Orc does as instructed. Trinda is efficiently freed from the poles just before a knife slices through her coat and shirt, exposing her back to the cooling air.

Lothar had been planning on trying to bargain for Trinda’s freedom when Gul’dan returned, but events progress far too rapidly for him to get the opportunity to do so. As Trinda is pulled from her poles, all he can do is yell at Gul’dan to stop this.

Garona translates Lothar’s words to Gul’dan. The warlock ignores his request completely, not even acknowledging that the words were spoken.

Seeing a small opportunity for possible escape, or if nothing else, rebellion, Trinda takes it. The Orc has spun her to face him and is just reaching out to restrain her when her knee smashes into what she hopes is an area just as sensitive for male Orcs as it is for Humans. Her guess correct, he drops to his knees, protecting himself from further attack with his hands. She brings the heel of her hand up into his nose, shattering it. The move doesn't incapacitate him as it would have a Human, yet the Orc is left in no shape to finish what he started.

A slight opening in the audience near the pole Jyhan had been tied to catches Trinda's attention. She darts towards it, but is quickly apprehended by an Orc that steps free from the surrounding crowd. The soldier fights like a wildcat, but is no match for her captor. During her struggle to get free from him, her loosely hanging ruined clothing is pulled from her body as his hands try to find purchase on her arms. She is left wearing only her leather pants and the linen chest bindings that most female soldiers use.

The Orc is finally able to subdue her and shoves her to her knees, her head trapped in one of his beefy hands. He holds her in a kneeling position as he sinks down next to her. Her back is exposed to Gul’dan and her fierce yells are replaced with quiet sobs. Tears stream down her face.

Having worked his way to his feet, Lothar continues yelling at Gul’dan, begging for the life of the thoughtful girl who had nursed a fox back to health in her youth.

Gul’dan continues ignoring Lothar and walks up to the captive woman. He slices through her remaining coverings, leaving her top half naked but mostly blocked from sight by the Orc who is holding her down.

Her arms cover herself as best she can as the spike on the belly of the iron dragon slides along her spine. She whimpers. The movement of the dragon stops just before it is driven into her back. She gasps at the pain.

Lothar calls Gul’dan every profane name in the book as he pulls against the leather securing his hands.

Gul’dan looks up. His glowing eyes settle on the Orc that let Trinda loose. As punishment for his failure, fingers reach towards the kneeling and bloodied Orc and pull the life from him. The Orc’s body falls over, wrinkled and wasted before it makes it to the ground.

What had animated the Orc only moments ago is channeled into the dragon on Trinda’s back. She shrieks at the contact and her body begins shaking from the pain it causes.

Once again, Gul’dan can feel the dragon not fully accept the life force. It’s a different feeling though. It’s not as resistant as the last one was, but it is still not compatible enough to activate the spells properly. As before, the metal glows red, tinged with the green of Fel. The Orc holding her to the ground lets her go and backs away.

The young woman folds in on herself as she falls to her side. Her arms wrap tightly around her chest and her legs pull in against her stomach as the dragon’s magic works on her body.

Unlike what the first dragon did to Jyhan, Trinda’s form is not warped and bent. There are no outward signs of what it is doing to her. What can’t be seen is the transformation inside of her. The normal, intended cycle of what a properly working dragon would do to a person, but accelerated. The incompatibility causing what would normally last days or longer to run its course in minutes. Magic surges through her, hyper-activating and hyper-enhancing everything far past what was intended. Her body burns through the provided life force in a short time while she convulses on the ground. Once the dragon's source of power is exhausted, her body turns on itself to try to continue feeding the changes.

Thankfully consciousness is gone before her body shuts down. She stops shaking as she dies. Her body liquefies on the inside as it devours itself, still trying to power the changes made to it. Before the process stops, her body begins to collapse in on itself. What had held it in its shape has been ravaged.

Lothar silently thanks the Light that her eyes were closed. He’s going to have enough trouble seeing this in nightmares as it is. He closes his eyes against any further destruction the process might inflict on her corpse. He doesn’t want to see anything worse if he can help it.

Gul’dan kneels down and inspects the used dragon. This time it is removable and he pulls it from her body, but he finds it no longer magical. He orders an Orc to get rid of her and turns towards Lothar. He instructs Garona to translate as he walks up to the man. Bringing his face in close to Lothar’s, he grabs hold of the bearded chin, and turns Lothar’s face towards his.

“Look at me,” he demands. Garona repeats what Gul'dan says.

Lothar squeezes his eyes shut tighter in response.

“Look. At. Me.” Malice drips from his words, needing no translation.

Orcish claws dig into the Lothar’s cheeks. He gives in and opens his eyes to stop any further damage. The warped and damaged iron Gul'dan removed from Trinda's spine is shoved in front of his face.

Gul’dan continues, “Do not think that I will not use one of these on you just because of this.” He motions towards where the Orc is trying to pick up Trinda’s dissolving body. “I do not care if it kills you. I will learn from your death.” He lets go of Lothar and turns to Garona, waiting for her to finish the translation.

When she has translated his threat, he tells her to talk to the prisoner and to report back to his tent with anything she discovers about what he might know about why the dragons aren’t working correctly. If he knows anything at all. He suspects that Garona cares for this particular Human more than she should based on the way she keeps trying to keep him alive. He will use whatever means available to him to solve this puzzle, and if anyone can pull any helpful information from this man, she will be able to.

After she says that she will, he turns and heads back to his tent to hold a discussion with his warlocks about what went wrong.

 

* * *

 

Tabitha’s quill is shaking as she writes her next message about Trinda’s death. The girl’s family and hers have been friendly for many years and she knows how hard the news of their daughter’s death will hit them. She knows that there is nothing she could have done to stop what happened, that she would have been killed in the attempt, but it doesn’t lessen her guilt.

As she attaches the note to one of her birds and releases it into the sky, she makes a vow to try to rescue Lothar on her own if the approaching rescue squad doesn’t make it in time.

 

* * *

 

The crowd of Orcs disperses as the entertainment comes to an end.

Garona turns from the departing Gul’dan and walks up beside Lothar. Trinda had managed to run from her pole on his right towards Jyhan’s pole on his left. As he has turned away from looking at the girl's corpse, his glaring eyes are on her as she steps close.

She begins her first full and private conversation she’s been able to have with the man she loves since leaving him alone in a Stormwind cell. “Gul’dan would like me to find out if you know why the dragons are failing.”

Defiance radiates from Lothar as he asks, “Why should I help him?”

“Because he is going to use one on you next. You can either say nothing and die painfully, or help save your own life.” Her voice full of frustration at his hostility towards her. She can understand why he hates her, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

She steps directly in front of him and his anger seems to lessen as he says, “Khadgar said that whatever it is these things do, it ends up killing you anyway. Just takes longer if it works correctly.”

“Did he say anything that would explain what is going wrong?”

Not sure where her loyalties lie at this point, Lothar changes the subject rather than just hand her information. “Why did you do it?” He watches her reaction intently, looking for any sign of deceit in her reply.

Knowing what he’s asking about without needing to ask as it’s something she’s thought about every day since it happened, her words fall quickly from her lips. “He asked me to.”

Lothar sees true sadness in her eyes as she speaks. “He asked you to betray us all? He asked you to stab him in the back?” He starts out with an angry heat, but calms down as she continues talking. He can see that she’s been just as affected by what she did as he has been.

“Yes. The portal had failed and Blackhand was coming to claim the honor that killing your King would have given him. He asked me to kill him and claim the honor myself to make sure that one of us would live through the day and try to make something good out of it all.” She takes a few breaths before continuing. “I… I did not want to. I refused at first. Then I saw that he was right. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do and I wish it could have been anyone other than myself.” She’s fighting hard not to show the emotion of the conversation to the Orcs that are still in the area.

“He’s not dead.” After seeing the truth in her words, that she didn’t betray Llane, he lets her know what many do not.

One of her eyebrows rises. “What are you trying to do by lying to me? I saw him die.”

“It was a near thing. The healers had their work cut out for them and he’s been asleep since, but he should survive.”

“Thank the Ancestors.” Tears of relief threaten to fall as his information absolves her of killing a man she had admired.

Now that he knows what really occurred, he feels badly for her not knowing that Llane is still among the living. “I’m sorry you’ve had to live with thinking you had killed him all this time.”

“And I am sorry I had no way of letting you know the truth about what I did. You must have hated me for turning on your friend.”

“Until a few moments ago, I did.”

Garona wants nothing more than to be able to reach out to him, for physical contact after all this time… but with where they are, surrounded by who is around, it would mean death for the both of them.

Lothar turns the conversation back to where it was before he changed the subject. “I don’t know what information was included in the notes you have seen, so I will tell you what I know. The dragons were tools forged by a long dead mage that he used to turn people into powerful weapons. Khadgar discovered them in his books and thought we could possibly use them against the Horde. After we found them, we discovered they weren’t the solution they promised to be. They do make the person they are used on unbelievably strong and fast and difficult to kill, but after awhile they run out of power and end up destroying the person they are attached to. Much like what happened to my friend over there, but not as quickly,” he nods in the direction of the Orc who has finally managed to pick up Trinda’s remains and is leaving the area with them. “If someone is willing to sacrifice a few lives, they get a really amazing weapon for a time.”

“Gul’dan followed the instructions that were with the dragons. Did Khadgar say anything that would explain why they aren’t working right?”

“The only thing he said that I haven’t told you yet is that they are powered by a darker magic that most mages will not touch. He said that it is a magic based in blood.”

Garona’s brow furrows as she absorbs that information.

“All I can think of, based on my limited knowledge of spell casting, is that when the dragons were created, Fel wasn’t in this world. That is the power Gul’dan uses. Maybe that’s where the problem lies. I will never be confused for a mage though, so that is just speculation.” He can see that she’s not sure his information will be of any use. He doubts it will be as well.

Muscles cramping from immobility drive Lothar to try to stretch his neck and shoulders to relieve the issue. When he tilts his head to the right, the dizziness that has held off for a time returns. He closes his eyes, waiting for the world to stop moving.

She sees his discomfort. “Are you okay?”

“Other than a cracked skull, being bound to a pole for half a day, and facing mostly certain death… I’m not bad,” he pauses, “The dizziness is a bit annoying though.”

Garona has to fight her instincts to move to him, to inspect his injuries, to comfort him. Eyes are still watching them. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Water?”

She nods. “I am glad we had a chance to talk and I hold onto the hope that there will still be a chance to save you from this. I will do everything in my power.”

“I know. Thank you.”

Not wanting to, but having to, she turns from him and begins the walk back to Gul’dan’s tent. Along the way she stops a passing Orc and instructs him to bring water to the prisoner. Then she continues on the pathway that will deliver Lothar’s possibly helpful information into the hands of his enemy.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was surprised when I noticed that Orcs have fingernails in the Warcraft movie. I always assumed they had claws, but my graphics cards have never been all that powerful and my graphic settings have never been turned up that high in the World of Warcraft. My Orcs have claws.
> 
> A giant thank you to MelanaAdara and the 2 new guests who left kudos for me since I posted the last chapter. I appreciate that little mouse click more than you could ever know. /bows
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me during my longest posting break as of yet. I sat down to write this chapter last night and thought it was going to take a few days. Thankfully it didn't.


	16. A Change is Gonna Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before another dragon can be tested, they have to figure out what is going wrong.
> 
> Their solution isn't fun for Lothar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lothar is treated poorly. Scenes equal to torture included. I don't think there's anything past an R movie rating though.

* * *

  
In the short time since Garona’s departure, a male Orc with incredibly bushy eyebrows arrives in the area where there is now only a lone prisoner. He brings a large log with him and arranges it as a seat between the two empty poles.

Lothar assumes that the Orc is his new guard as there is no spectacle to be found in his current situation. A few others pass by and stop for short conversations with the sitting Orc, but none stay for long.

The sound of heavy boots coming up behind registers in Lothar’s brain. Normally that sound would have caught his attention far earlier, but his body is exhausted and running a bit slowly.

An Orc, the wearer of the boots, walks past Lothar’s right side and rounds to face him. It’s a small male Orc, hardly taller than a Human, and the way it carries itself has Lothar pegging it as a bit subservient. He hadn’t noticed this sort of behavior in any of the other Orcs to this point and stores it away in his memory banks for later, if there is a later.

It steps forward, offering the large animal horn in his hand to the prisoner as he was instructed to do.

‘Is it simple?’ Lothar wonders as he shows the Orc his restrained hands, pointing out that he can’t reach for what is being offered.

Guttural muttering comes from the Orc as it shuffles closer. Lothar can tell it is not pleased with having to deal with the Human. It raises the horn towards his face one more time and he can see that there is water within. He can’t possibly get any closer to the horn and the Orc finally understands.

Not so carefully, the horn is shoved against his mouth. Water is poured across his tongue faster than he can swallow. With only minor choking, Lothar manages to get a good amount of the liquid into his body while the rest spills down his front.

With a look of disgust as its farewell, the Orc walks away, heading back to where it came from. Lothar is left with only the guard on the log as company. The other Orcs in the camp appear to be doing whatever it is that Orcs do in a camp as night closes in.

Lack of food and water to this point and the nagging fatigue from the earlier head injury have drained Lothar’s energy. His muscles are beginning to shake and remaining standing is becoming a chore. He slides down the pole to a kneeling position and his thoughts turn to home. What he wouldn’t do for some of the delicious food and ale the Stormwind kitchens provide. His comfortable bed would feel really nice. His sister… she must be worried sick.

His tired brain wonders what Callan is doing right now, and then he remembers. He has to fight the tears that threaten at the memory. It will do no good to show his audience any weakness if it can be helped.

Lothar turns to prayer. Asking the Light for help, a quick death if not. Requesting that if they manage to succeed with the dragon, that he doesn’t hurt anyone that isn’t an Orc. He’s never been an overly religious man, but he does believe in what most of Azeroth’s population does. As he continues his one-sided conversation with his higher power, he drifts off into an uncomfortable sleep.

 

* * *

 

Not knowing how quickly Khadgar is recovering, or if he’s already back in Stormwind, Karos sends a bird with the information about Gul’dan’s experimenting with the dragons back down the path towards the cave. He feels it’s something their mage should know about.

Once the message is taken care of, they continue to follow the trail south. The spot where the Orcs rested and Lothar woke up is now behind them as they move on.

 

* * *

 

Garona enters Gul’dan’s tent to find him, Lur’gul, and another warlock in council. The newcomer to this, Zerl, is comparing the damaged dragon to one that is unused. Her entrance is noticed by Gul’dan and he motions for her to come to them.

He asks her if the Human knew anything and she passes along the only things Lothar had said that they hadn’t already contemplated. That Fel wasn’t around when the dragons were forged and enchanted, that the blood magic the mage used was shunned by most of his kind.

The warlocks and Gul’dan have Garona repeat the information from the scrolls yet again to make sure they haven’t missed something obvious. When they are positive that nothing was overlooked, they consider the possibility that there could be something to the idea that Fel is what is disturbing the process. After some back and forth discussion, they surmise that the dragons can’t correctly translate the life force channeled from a Fel user into a subject that has no Fel inside of them. The dragons were probably created with spells that wanted matching magics between the user and recipient and that the life force Gul’dan is channeling could be warped from the incompatibility, causing the unintended outcome.

Zerl proposes that the mage probably used the blood magic as not every Human has magic in their veins, but all possess blood. Lur’gul suggests that as none of the warlocks know this blood magic, and since their magics are all infused with Fel now, that in order for the process to work, the subject the dragon is used on needs to have Fel as well. It’s a simplistic idea, but it does have promise.

Garona doesn’t like the sound of that at all. “Do we have any idea how Fel with interact with a Human? Maybe we should try this on an Orc that has already been given the Fel first, to test the theory.”

Gul’dan’s mind is already set on Lothar being the next test subject. He’s still holding a grudge against the man for what happened at the Portal. Even though her suggestion has some merit, he is not going to let her sway his decision this time.

His head turns towards her so that he can address her directly. “If I did not know better, I would think you are trying to protect this Human, Garona.”

“How can you even suggest that?”

“Do you deny fighting with them? Killing your own kind?”

“I did what I had to do to survive once I had been captured. The Horde was not coming to rescue me. I worked to gain the trust of the Humans so that I could get close, kill their chieftain, and earn my place here. You witnessed that yourself. How dare you question my loyalty.” She backs up her lies with a vicious snarl, hoping to strengthen her words with action. Garona may have told Lothar and the King that Orcs do not lie, but she's only half-Orc, and in this situation it is necessary.

“You proved yourself that day. That is not in question. I was simply pointing out that your continued attempts at deflecting my attention from this prisoner look suspicious.” He turns towards the whole group as he continues. “If we test the dragon on an Orc first, three Orcs might die. One to the dragon, one for the dragon, and one to power the dragon when we use it on the Human later if the test fails. If we start with the Human, only one Orc dies. We can get more Humans if this doesn’t work and use them to power the spells in the future. Since I cannot bring more of our kind through the portal and we have limited numbers on this side, I would prefer to sacrifice as few Orcs as possible.”

Garona looks as though she is about to argue, probably to point out that they could simply wait until they have more Humans and just test things then. Gul’dan heads her off by stating, “I will not wait. I will not argue with you about this.”

Lur’gul interrupts before things can take a turn, “This will work out better anyway. Once he has been gifted the Fel, if he survives that and the dragon, you will be able to control him. He won’t be able to harm us and we’ll be able to use him as a weapon against his own people.”

The thought that Lothar would be used in this manner horrifies Garona, but she can think of no way to prevent what is being planned.

Gul’dan nods in agreement. “The day grows old and tomorrow I must return to the Portal. Let us get this done and out of the way.” He tells everyone in the tent to leave and to meet where the prisoner is being held. He will join them shortly.

The warlocks take their leave and Garona follows closely behind. As she reaches the exit, she turns and gives Gul’dan a questioning look, wanting to know what he’s up to. When he simply holds her gaze, showing nothing that gives her any answers, she turns and leaves.

Gul’dan is preparing to leave the tent when a voice echoes annoyingly through his head. “Use the blood.”

Since arriving on Azeroth, the presence of Kil’jaeden has mostly left him alone. He gets the occasional reminder that he is still being watched, but most of the time he almost forgets about the connection. Wondering what Kil’jaeden might be up to with this command, but knowing it would be unwise to ignore it, he moves to the section of the tent where he keeps his personal effects secured. He removes the protective wards and retrieves a container that stays buried out of sight at all times. Gul’dan double checks the spells keeping it locked and tucks it securely into his robes. He then exits the tent, setting out to ruin the Human’s day. The tent flaps fall closed behind him.

 

* * *

 

Trying to fulfill her vow, Tabitha has utilized a good many of her skills as a rogue to sneak into the camp and position herself close to Lothar. If not for the attentive eyes of the Orc guarding him and the amount of light still afforded by the setting sun, she would be able to release him and get him to safety without being spotted. Her talents aren’t enough to overcome these current challenges so she stays hidden and waits in case the situations changes.

 

* * *

 

The sun has almost set and darkness is beginning to settle in. Fires have been started and torches lit around the camp.

Gul’dan arrives at the pole triangle to find that a small crowd has once again gathered to observe what will happen. His warlocks are there, Garona is there. The hated Human chieftain looks pitiful on his knees at the base of his prison, dead to the world.

He passes his staff to Zerl and motions for Lur’gul to follow him towards Lothar. A few feet short of the sleeping prisoner, he stops and removes the container from his robe. After placing it in the waiting hands of the Orc beside him, he speaks an incantation over the container in a language only the warlocks recognize.

The seal holding the container closed breaks and the lid pops open slightly. A green Fel glow emanates from the interior along with a smell so sulfuric and bitter that Lur’gul’s eyes water.

A small cup carved from bone appears from the depths of Gul’dan’s robe. His free hand pulls the lid of the container open and those nearby can see that it is full of a green, glowing liquid. He carefully drags the cup through the contents of the small chest, making sure not to waste any of the precious fluid. When the cup is full, he closes the lid and speaks another incantation over it, re-sealing the container with magic.

“That box is worth more than the lives of everyone on this world. Treat it with care,” he admonishes the warlock and then turns towards Lothar. Lur’gul backs away with the container and moves to stand by Zerl.

Gul’dan beckons Garona over to translate. As she steps close, he squats down in front of the prisoner and carefully waves the cup under Lothar’s nose with his right hand. The smell has the same effect as the pungent salts used to wake the unconscious and Lothar’s eyes are instantly open. He jerks his head as far from the fumes as he can and Gul’dan pulls the cup back a bit.

“That is the smell of your future. I use magic to pass the Fel to my Orcs, but you are going to receive it straight from the source. This is the blood of a great Demon-Lord. You should be honored as very few are given this gift.”

The contents in the cup are burning Lothar’s nose, eyes, and lungs even from this short distance, but he’s too tightly bound to move further away. Rather than focus on the cup of green liquid that the smell is coming from, he locks eyes with Garona as she translates. He notes the surprise on her face when she gets to the part about it being demon blood.

He’s seen what Fel does to the Orcs. The before and after of Blackhand. The way it augments and enlarges the Orcs in grotesque ways. He really doesn’t want to be reshaped. What is it going to do to him? Why are they doing this? Last he knew they were just going to use a dragon on him and now he’s awoken to this fresh hell.

“You shouldn’t have. My naming day isn’t for another month.”

Garona does her best to translate that back to Gul’dan in a way that carries the snark and bravery that Lothar put into it.

Gul’dan reacts much like Lothar expected and becomes angrier. The warlock commands a nearby Orc to, “Make him stand!” The Orc steps forward from the crowd and grabs hold of the cross-pole on either side of Lothar’s elbows. Dragging the man roughly to his feet and then backing into the crowd again after the task is complete.

Green glowing eyes are suddenly right in front of Lothar’s as Gul’dan leans forward. His clawed left hand reaches around and sinks into brown hair from behind, pulling the man’s head back as far as the poles and restraints will allow. Gul’dan sees pain flash across the face in front of him just before Lothar defiantly clamps his mouth shut. Needing more hands to be able to safely pour the liquid into the Human’s mouth without spilling any, he tells Garona to hold Lothar’s head where it is.

She has to follow the orders. While she doesn’t like that this is going to happen, it really is the best option to try to help him survive what will come later if they are right about the magics. Having been unable to come up with any way to save him from this, she places herself behind Lothar’s back and gently winds her fingers into his hair, taking over holding his head from Gul’dan.

“I am sorry.” Her words sound pitifully inadequate, even to her own ears. He doesn't reply in any way.

Once both of his hands are free for use, Gul’dan steps to his right and uses the thumb on his left hand to force Lothar’s mouth open. Angry blue eyes drive daggers into Gul’dan as the body they belong to tenses against what is to come. He holds the cup above Lothar’s open mouth for a moment, torturing him with the anticipation. Carefully, he begins to pour.

\-----

Molten metal. Surely that is what is running into his mouth. As badly as it burns, it could be nothing else.

Lothar tries not to let any of the blood make its way down his throat. He lets it gather in his mouth while breathing through his nose, although the smell of it burns almost as badly as the liquid flooding across his tongue. His mouth fills and a strong finger pulls against his chin, shutting his mouth, trapping the contents inside. A finger and thumb pinch his nose closed, taking away any choice he has. The burning sensation is beyond anything he thinks he’ll be able to endure, but he needs air. His body overrides his brain as oxygen becomes an issue. What is in his mouth is swallowed and continues to burn just as strongly all the way down.

The hand on his face retreats after he swallows and he opens his mouth to gasp for air. The fire burns through his center. Pain. Blinding, excruciating pain. His body convulses against the bindings as the Fel in the blood spreads through his body.

\-----

Gul’dan’s free hand returns to pry Lothar’s mouth open again so that he can pour the rest of the cup’s contents in.

Lothar is already so far gone to the pain that his body swallows the liquid out of instinct, choking on it as his muscles spasm. He coughs some of it out and into his beard as he struggles to get the rest of the mouthful down.

Garona can’t stand to be a part of this any longer and removes her fingers from his hair. She retreats to the company of the warlocks. Praying to the Spirits, praying to the Ancestors, praying to anything in this new world that will listen. Praying that he lives through this.

In order to observe what happens from a better vantage point, Gul’dan stands and steps back. As he watches, Lothar’s shaking lessens, but his body now strains against the bindings, his eyes screwed shut in pain. His chin is pulled tightly to his chest, head tucked forward, trying to curl in on himself despite being tied to the pole.

Dark green spreads with every beat of his heart, following the network of arteries and veins beneath his skin. So far, this is the only outward sign Gul'dan can see showing that anything has changed. The color begins to fade after a short while, once the leading edge of the spread moves further along.

\-----

Everything in Lothar's world revolves around fire. He feels it burn into and through every single cell in his body. The darkness behind his eyelids is now tinged with green. He can no longer hear anything other than a grating, unintelligible alien voice hissing in his ears, behind his ears… tearing into his brain.

New pain. Spreading through his skull and heading towards his teeth. It dances through their roots until it focuses into the area around his canines, intensifying and drilling into them with precision.

The hurting finally hits its limit. The cross-pole held by Lothar's elbows cracks where it meets the larger pole when it is unable to withstand the strain his body is putting upon it.

In a flash, the pain recedes. Sinking back into his core, leaving only a dull ache to remind him of what he's just gone through. The voice in his head quiets a bit as it the pain retreats and the sounds from the world around him return.

His lungs greedily suck in oxygen. His head hangs down, hair hiding his face. His body leans slightly more forward than it did before as the cross-pole is now threatening to give way.

Just as he thinks he might be given a moment to recover, the voice of the Orc that has done this to him returns.

\-----

Gul'dan's returns to his side and once again sinks his fingers into his hair. He pulls Lothar's head back far enough to get a look at his face.

“Open your eyes.”

Lothar doesn't understand the words, but feels compelled to look at the one that spoke them. His eyes open groggily and slowly focus on the face in front of him.

As those eyes meet his, Gul'dan inspects the changes the blood has inflicted upon them. What was white is now black. Brilliant blue irises have been replaced with a glowing Fel hue, mirroring the warlock's own. He assumes it's something passed on specifically from Kil'jaeden as they are the only two beings he knows of with this distinct feature.

A nearby torch flickers, the moving light dancing across Lothar's face. Whatever the blood has done to him, his senses are in overdrive and the light hurts his eyes.

He grimaces in reaction to it and Gul'dan sees the other outward sign of the Fel transformation. Lothar's canine teeth have lengthened slightly and now end in sharp points, as if the demon blood has advanced him to a more predatory step in Human evolution. A clawed thumb from the hand not twined in Lothar's hair pulls the man's lip up to give him a better view of one of the newly sharpened teeth. Being this close to him, he can feel the Fel practically leaking out of Lothar, it's so strong.

Gul'dan lets go of Lothar and returns to his warlocks. As he does so, the weakened cross-pole supporting the man gives out and breaks at the notch.

Lothar drops to his knees, somehow not falling forward. The pole halves remain held against his body by his elbows, but the pressure is no longer present and the wood hangs loosely. He doesn't have enough energy to do anything other than sit there on his knees, head hanging forward, shoulders slumped, recovering.

The sky opens up and what starts as sprinkles turns into a light rain.

While the warlocks talk among themselves, Garona moves to Lothar's side and places a hand on his shoulder while grabbing onto one of the pole halves. She slides it out from under his elbow and tosses it to the side. Then she repeats the process with the other half. His arms hang against his body now, but the leather strip still binds his wrists. The length between them no longer taut.

She moves around in front of of him and squats down to be more on his level. He's staring at the ground in front of him, brow furrowed, not even registering her presence. It looks to her as though he's concentrating on something, listening to something, but as to what, she has no clue.

Her right hand reaches out, closing the distance between them, placing her palm on his cheek, below the bruising. Something she's been wanting to do since the moment she saw him in the camp. The contact seems to ground him and his eyes leave the unseen and focus on her face. He swallows painfully, his throat still raw from the blood.

“Are you okay?” Her concern is obvious in her voice as she quickly removes her hand so that no one around sees too much affection in her gesture.

His speech slightly changed from having to talk around teeth that are different than they were a few minutes ago, “I don't know.” He pauses, trying to come up with the right words. “It feels like there's someone… A voice in my head. Whispers.” Another pause. “Alien… malicious.”

“Can you understand what is being said?”

“I don't think I should be able to, but I almost can, and that worries me.”

Neither knows what to say next, and a short silence takes hold between them. His attention falls back to what she can't see or hear while the rain runs down his face, washing the demon blood out of his beard. Garona takes the time to study what has happened to his eyes. They're fascinating and a bit frightening and now look a lot like Gul'dan's.

A nearby Orc calls to another to bring him more wood for the camp fire that is burning nearby. Lothar pulls back to the here and now and looks towards the one that spoke. “He didn't just ask for wood in Common, did he?”

She raises an eyebrow, “How did you…? That was Orcish.”

“Say something in Orcish,” he requests with curiosity.

Garona thinks of something to say that the Orcs around her won't think strange and says, “You small-teeth are weak.”

“I think you just called me weak and said that I have small teeth. I would have to say that the last part isn't completely true anymore.”

“How…?” He shouldn't be able to understand the words she used.

“The voice. It feels like it knows at least some of your language, and what it knows, I learn. If that makes any sense.”

She contemplates this for a moment. “As if the knowledge was carried in the blood? Maybe the demon it came from knew Orcish?”

He nods. “Don't let them know,” he says as he points towards the nearby Orcs with his head.

“I will not.”

“Thank you.”

Wanting to know if anything else has changed, she asks, “Do you feel any different?”

“In my head I keep seeing images of myself slaughtering this whole camp. I don't feel any stronger, so I doubt that I could do it, but I think it's what the voice wants to do. Other than the teeth and stronger senses, everything else feels the same as before. I'm just glad I'm not green.” He holds a hand up, showing his normal colored skin off.

Garona's expressions reminds him that some of the people in the conversation are of the verdant variety.  
  
"The color looks better on some than others," he admits with a tasteful leer, trying to placate her mock anger.  
  
A satisfied nod is his reward for the back pedalling. “Don't forget your eyes,” she points out, unsure if he's aware of what has happened to them.

“Hmm?” His head tilts with his question.

She describes their new appearance to him.

Only able to imagine what they look like now from her words, he says, “That sounds a bit disturbing.”

“At first,” she admits honestly.

Rather than dwell on something that can't be changed, Lothar speaks of his foremost concern. “I am worried about what will happen when Gul'dan uses the dragon on me. I can tell this Thing,” he taps his temple, the leather strip pulling his other hand along with the first, “relishes the thought of the extra power.”

Garona hadn't thought of this possibility. No one would have. She has no answer for him so she promises what she can. “Try not to harm me and I will do whatever I can to help you.”

“Kill me if you have to.” The hurt look on her face confuses him for a moment.

“You are the second friend to ask me that recently. I do not want to.”

“If I become a danger, you will need to. Please. I don't want to be responsible for killing my own kind.” His eyes lock onto hers. “Or you.”

She nods, unsure of her promise.

Gul'dan's voice announces from behind her, “It is time.”

Garona turns towards him in time to see him pull a new metal dragon from his robes and move towards the pair.

“Stay strong,” she commands him as she pulls out a small knife and slices through the strip between his wrists, stands up, and backs away.

The rain has come to a stop again while they talked. Lothar leans his head back and looks up to the stars he can see between the clouds. This is the first time he's looked at them with his Fel enhanced eyesight and it could possibly be the last. They are absolutely beautiful.

As he stares into the sky, Garona notices that Lothar's body is steaming. The rain soaking his hair is evaporating despite the cool air around them. His body must be running warmer now to make that happen. She had been too preoccupied with other details at the time to have noticed when she touched his face.

Lothar's fate approaches in Gul'dan's hand.

 

* * *

 

Tabitha's hiding spot has been surrounded by Orcs who have arrived to watch the proceedings. There is no way for her to retreat from the area without being discovered. There is no way for her to update the incoming team on what has happened, and her plans for rescue have fallen apart. She continues to witness the events from cover.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/13/17: I almost have the next chapter done. It's taking longer than expected and is longer than expected. Next day at the most.)
> 
> Thank you to the two new guests for the kudos. I appreciate them!
> 
> Since I began posting my story, I’ve been finding a lot of things in other stories that have been posted after that are very similar at times to what I already had saved in my rough draft file. I just hope that if anyone reading this also notices the similarities, that they don’t think I’m ripping the ideas off. Very little of what I’ve been writing since chapter 8 or so is less than four months old. I think a lot of us just think a lot alike. :D
> 
>  
> 
> Lothar's eyes – A lot of what I got stuck on with Lothar's physical transformation from the Fel was how his eyes would look. I wanted the core look to mirror Gul'dan's… to be the glowing green irises and the magical glow that comes from them. Then I saw a screenshot from the scene in Warcraft where Lothar is behind bars and looks up to Garona and then moves towards her. The lighting in that short moment makes his eyes look completely black with only the reflection of a light in the center of each eye. It looks amazing, but it wasn't quite what I needed. As I don't know how to do much with photo editors, I ended up just taking the Gul'dan movie poster and altering the eyes to show what I decided upon. The end result is here: https://flic.kr/p/QHPPPq It's a subtle difference, and you'll have to imagine it on Lothar, but that is what's in my head.
> 
>  
> 
> Garona – Paula Patton's portrayal of Garona left a lot to be desired for me. Sure, she's pretty. Sure, she had a few decently acted scenes (most of which were in the deleted/extended clips), but for the most part the character came across as a bit meh. It would be very hard to actually believe that Lothar would have been as instantly attracted to this version of the character as the movie showed. The real Garona would be a lot more Orcish and violent and a warrior presence that would have caught his attention. Wild. Exotic. Strong.
> 
> So my story contains a Garona that should have been. She's based on Paula Patton's Garona, but is also a mix of the character seen in the artwork at this link: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/43Gz2 These are concept drawings for the movie, done by Wei Wang, “Principal Artist at Blizzard Entertainment”. (There is one naked drawing, you've been warned.) If you have the time to view his other concept art for the movie, it's gorgeous: https://www.artstation.com/artist/weiwangart
> 
>  
> 
> Gul’dan – Lore. While researching I couldn’t find a lot of solid details about how he got his powers. One source said Kil’jaeden just gave him the powers (I think that was original timeline Warcraft lore). Another said something about him getting it from demon blood (I think that may have been alternate WoD Gul’dan lore). And then there was the Harbingers short. Everything kinda contradicts itself so I’ve written my own lore that sort of combines everything from every source. This is my Gul’dan lore Bible for my story:
> 
> He got his powers through drinking provided demon blood, Kil’jaeden’s own. This causes a link between him and Kil’jaeden as seen in the ‘Tomb of Sargeras’ Harbingers short. He passed Fel/warlock powers to his early Shadow Council trusted magic users through the blood of Mannoroth. Their powers are lesser than his because the demon is lesser. They have no conscious link to Mannoroth. He and his fellow warlocks can speak Demonic and control demons. He passes Fel to the other Orcs as we see in the movie, by shoving it into them with his magic. All that happens to them is the greening and strengthening. No other Orc/Human except his trusted warlocks have received Fel by blood until Lothar.


	17. Third Time's the Charm?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dragon is used on Lothar. Will he survive? What will happen if he does?

* * *

 

With their tasks around the camp finally complete for the day, even more Orcs wander in and join the crowd encircling the poles. Most of the denizens of the camp are now here. Quite a few of them see for the first time that Gul’dan’s prisoner is none other than the Human who defeated Blackhand in the Mak’gora. A round of questioning murmurs pass through the new arrivals. “Should Gul’dan be doing this to _him_?” and, “This isn’t honorable,” can be heard. These concerns are countered with, “He won his freedom for that day, maybe he shouldn’t have gotten caught again,” and similar rebuffs. There are those that still feel that this is dishonorable, but they are not in the majority and they know it. Any further unease remains unspoken as they watch their leader move forward.

\-----

Lothar doesn’t need to be looking towards Gul’dan to know where the warlock is. His newly enhanced senses allow him to hear every nearly silent approaching footfall. The metallic clinking as the rings in his lower tusks move slightly with each step forward, the swish of the hanging cloth of Gul’dan’s robes... sounds even Orc ears can’t hear have become almost thunderous to Lothar when he concentrates on them.

He knows that he stands no chance of escape in his current condition. Even at full strength and health he wouldn’t be able to get past this many Orcs. The thought crosses his mind that he could try to force his captors into killing him before Gul’dan has a chance to use the dragon on him. All he will have to do is throw himself into the crowd, grab a weapon, attack. He’s willing to bet several gold coins on the possibility that at least a few of the Orcs watching will cut him down before Gul’dan can stop them. The only thing that bothers him about this plan is that he has no way of apologizing to Garona for it.

Wanting to give no notice of what he is about to do, he brings his gaze down from the stars and looks to Gul’dan. Trying to appear as compliant as possible, while still maintaining a defiant glare, he climbs to his feet, wobbling only slightly from the nagging dizziness.

\-----

As Lothar gains his feet, Gul’dan notices that he is no longer bound and decides to teach him about the control he commands over the Fel that now courses through his unworthy veins. Halting his approach, he extends his empty hand towards Lothar. His magic reaches out and digs into the Fel in the man’s body, giving it a tug. Not enough to pull any from him, just enough to send the message that he could if he needs to. Gul’dan doesn’t want to lessen the weapon he might become by doing so.

Unlike the times he’s done this to the Orcs around him, the Fel inside of Lothar fights against his grasp. It’s not as pliant and controllable, it is stronger. Nothing he won’t be able to handle now that he is aware of the difference.

\-----

Lothar sucks in a breath at the shock of the feeling when Gul’dan’s magic slams into him, snaking through his body intrusively, grabbing hold of something inside of him. The voice in his mind loudly protests the violation.

The searing, pulling pain that comes when those magical fingers yank nearly knocks his legs out from under him. His plan is abandoned in that moment. Realizing now what Gul’dan can do to him, even from a distance, he knows that he won’t make it more than a few steps before he’s writhing in agony.

He stands his ground as Gul’dan halts his attack, withdraws his grasping magic, and continues his approach. Garona translates as Gul’dan instructs an Orc to remove the prisoner’s upper clothing. Lothar understands most of it now anyway, but waits for her to finish to keep his secret safe.

As the Orc steps from the crowd, Lothar undoes the fastenings on his coat and removes it. He wants to remain in as much control of the situation as he can, undermining Gul’dan in any way possible. He tosses the coat to Garona and then pulls his heavy linen shirt over his head and off. His thrown shirt lands near her feet, leaving him in only his leather pants and boots. The flickering glow in his eyes intensifies slightly when he resumes glaring boldly into Gul’dan’s.

The advancing Orc stops, waiting for further instructions. None are given and he retreats into the crowd.

Gul’dan halts in front of Lothar, dwarfing the Human despite his hunched posture. “Your bravery will not save you.”

Garona doesn’t translate and Lothar doesn’t react to the threat.

The eye contact that Lothar had initiated is broken by Gul’dan as he steps around him, reaching towards the man’s back with the dragon. He drags the spike along Lothar's spine until it is aligned properly, putting slight pressure on it as he does so.

Despite trying to control himself and not show any reaction, Lothar twitches involuntarily when the cold spike makes contact with his skin.

When he feels the spike dip into one of the small gaps between the bones in the spine under his hand, Gul’dan drives it forward. The spike punctures tanned skin and the tip of it grates against bone underneath. A small groan escapes the man as it sinks in. Wasting no time, Gul’dan siphons the life force from a random nearby Orc and routes it into the dragon.

\-----

Lothar does his best to prepare for what is coming. He balls his hands into fists, his muscles tense, he squeezes his eyes shut… but there’s really no way to anticipate the feeling of having another’s life force shoved into your body through a magical metal conduit.

\-----

The iron dragon heats up and glows as red as a sword heated in a forge. This time Gul’dan feels no resistance at all and there are no green flickers. As the life force is smoothly and completely channeled into the metal, he steps back to observe.

This time the dragon behaves much differently as it activates, seemingly coming to life. The wings shift and the legs move, much as a dragon would when waking from a long nap. Its body straightens and lines up with Lothar’s spine as it seeks to gain a grip on its host so that it can integrate itself fully. The sharp metal legs sink into the flesh below, seeking purchase around the bones of his spine. Gul’dan can see Lothar’s body trembling from the pain.

\-----

In comparison to the all-consuming fire that washed through him with the demon blood, this new sensation is a lot more bearable. Lothar feels the moment the life force enters the dragon. He feels the metal of the dragon heat up and burn his skin where it touches him. It takes everything he has to fight the instinct to get away from the fiery pain. The metal shifts. He doesn’t have time to wonder about how it could do that before the four pointed legs slice through his skin, cut through the muscles underneath, and dig into his bones. Once they’ve securely clamped onto his spine, they burrow no further. Lothar can feel warm blood running down his back.

Unseen, below the surface, the spike seeks to connect the dragon with his body’s control center. The spells of its creation cause the metal thorn to elongate, allowing it to drive itself into his spinal column. As it delves, it splits from a single point into hundreds of miniscule threads of metal. A good amount of them pierce the protection around the spinal cord, fusing themselves into the fibers and nerve cells contained within, but some branch off in other directions. A decent percentage travel through the spinal nerves, out to his muscles. Some move up the spinal column and into his brain. The process takes very little time to complete and once the threads have integrated and connected with his body, the dragon begins the work of using the new life force to change the body it is now attached to.

The magic, powered by the gifted life, flows along the threads spread throughout Lothar’s body. Enhancing and strengthening as it goes. The process heals any current damage to his body. The cuts around the metal legs quickly close, leaving only mended pink skin behind. Minutes from now, even that will have returned to its normal color. The injury to his head and the bruising around it fades away. Any sign of a concussion disappears. The burns to his skin from the hot metal heal.

He can tell that the presence in his head is enjoying the augmenting of his body. The feeling of new strength, new stamina, new power. Lothar is still just trying to process all of it.

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/trooberger/31399606331/in/dateposted-public/)

\-----

The dragon has done what it was designed to do and settles into a mostly dormant state. It’s currently storing the extra remaining life force inside of itself until more is needed by Lothar’s body to keep it running at its new advanced levels. The glow fades from the metal and it returns to its original black color.

Lothar’s body stops trembling as the process completes. Those in front of him can see that his eyes are still tightly shut, his brow furrowed from concentration. He relaxes his clenched fists and stretches his fingers out to relieve the tension in his arm muscles. He stretches his neck from side to side to lessen the tension in his neck and shoulders. The dragon moves with his body as he does so despite being solid metal. Through the magic it was created with, it remains flexible… like a large, parasitic, skeletal bug.

His eyes open and lock onto Garona’s. They are absolutely glowing with bright Fel energy, but she can see that Lothar is still in control of himself.

\-----

The mind-numbing power running through his body makes it hard to concentrate. His muscles are aching to be used. The presence in his mind wants to control them for Its own purpose. He stretches his muscles to try to release some of the pent up energy coursing through them, but it doesn’t do much to take the edge off. He opens his eyes and the first thing he sees in Garona. In his over-tuned state, he focuses on her, trying to keep his mind calm, trying to keep himself from attacking everyone around him. She holds the eye contact, seeming to understand that he needs the connection.

\-----

Gul’dan wants to see what the first successful test of a dragon has done to the Human, so he orders one of the larger Orcs near him to attack.

Hearing the command and the movement of his attacker, Lothar breaks eye contact with Garona and turns to face the charging Orc. As he does so, Gul’dan backs into the gathered crowd to observe. Garona and the two warlocks move out of the center of the ring as well, joining the circle of Orcs somewhat near to Gul'dan.

Senses and instincts are hyper-active. Time slows down. Lothar watches as the Orc rushes towards him in slow motion. He can see every move in perfect clarity. It’s a lumbering and clumsy oaf of a thing to his enhanced senses. Without thinking, his body sinks into a fighting stance trained into him over the years.

There is no fear whatsoever. He should be at least a little worried about the size of his oncoming opponent, but he is not. It’s as if he already knows there is no way he can lose this fight.

The Orc finally closes the distance to his patiently waiting opponent and swings one of his hefty fists at the man’s head. It never connects. The man is no longer where he was a second ago.

Lothar casually ducks underneath the slowly swinging hand as it arcs towards his original position. Before he dodges to the side, he reaches out and digs the fingers of his left hand into the bracer behind the descending fist. His new strength and speed allow him to alter the swing of the Orc’s right arm with ease. He pulls it across the Orc’s body and down as he moves to the side.

Instead of pounding Lothar’s head into a pulp, the Orc finds his arm painfully wrenched across his body. His forward momentum causing him to pitch forward across his detained arm.

As the Orc starts to tip forward, his bracer is released. The full weight of his body behind the fall, the Orc smashes into the ground. Unable to break his fall with the arm that had been yanked, the Orc’s head slams into the dirt and he doesn’t rise.

With the defeat of the first Orc, Gul’dan motions for two more to join in the melee. A male and female advance from different directions. The large male has a tattoo on his face that reminds Lothar a bit of a lightning storm and he is immediately nicknamed Bolt.

The adrenaline is flowing through Lothar and he wants to hurt his new opponents. He wants to rip them limb from limb. He knows he shouldn’t feel this way, that the feeling is unreasonable, but logic can’t override his intense hatred for them. When he replays these events in his mind later, he will come to the conclusion that the being in his head is the reason for this.

First to approach is the female. She’s only a little taller than Lothar, but is well toned. As she prepares her opening attack, the male on Lothar’s right flank begins to close in from behind. Bolt’s footsteps catch Lothar’s attention and he turns to check on the Orc’s position. As he does so, the female charges.

Her moves are easy to predict and Lothar lets her get in close and take a swing at him. He dodges the punch effortlessly. She has learned from his fight with the first Orc and expects him to avoid her attack. As he evades, she reaches for his head with her other hand. Her fingers, instead of sinking into his hair, grasp nothing. He’s dodged both attacks and re-centered himself faster than she can respond.

Before she can react, he brings his right leg up and kicks her hard in the stomach. Her body falls backwards and slides a short distance along the ground. There she remains, retching and gasping for breath.

Lothar uses the kick to push himself over and onto his back, sliding under Bolt’s attempt to obliterate him from behind. The dragon is driven through the earth beneath him, forgotten until now. The jarring contact snaps quite a few of the threads where they split from the dragon. Because his changed body now relies on the interior metal network, the interruption to it interferes with his ability to function while the dragon works to reconnect all that is broken.

The male Orc’s attack misses when his target disappears from in front of him. He barrels past Lothar, almost crushing the man’s left leg with a heavily booted foot as he does so. His charge carries him past the downed female and into the surrounding crowd where waiting arms turn him around and shove him back into the fight. He returns to find Lothar facing away from him, having trouble climbing to his feet. He can see blood running down the man’s dirt-covered back from any point where the dragon contacts his flesh. It must have done some damage when he landed on it.

His confidence in a quick success against the Human has lessened. Even more so when he looks to his fighting partner where she remains on the ground, relearning how to breathe around broken ribs. Figuring his best opportunity will be to attack while his opponent appears to be a bit dazed, he moves in behind Lothar and lands a strong punch to the center of his back, below the dragon. The crowd cheers.

The dragon hasn’t quite completed repairing all of its connections yet and Lothar isn’t able to focus past the resulting disorientation. Not expecting the hit, he’s driven forward to his hands and knees. The Orc wastes no time coming around to his right and kicking him hard in the ribs, knocking him over onto his side. Without the strengthening of his bones, his rib cage would have been crushed. As it is, a few bones crack. Lothar barely feels the damage though because the dragon finishes its repairs just as the boot connects. The fog surrounding his ability to think recedes in a heartbeat’s time.

He regains his senses as the Orc’s foot descends towards the side of his torso, intending to crush him. Lothar brings his right hand up in between them and the boot slams down onto his palm. A slightly bent elbow absorbs quite a bit of the blow, but the jarring of his muscles and bones, especially his damaged ribs, isn’t pleasant. In his current state of mind, it hardly registers. Stopping the attack is much easier than Lothar expected and his new strength allows him to effortlessly push himself up using his left hand. Shoving against the foot as he does so, he knocks the Orc over backwards. His ribs are already healing as he makes it to his feet again.

The female Orc has finally recovered enough to stand and rejoin the fight. Lothar turns to her and Bolt rolls to his feet behind him. Now that he’s learning what he can do, feeling the new strength of his body and the power in his muscles, he is enjoying the fight.

From opposite sides, both Orcs attack in unison. The female charges and Lothar dodges. Green arms wrap around him from behind as he does so, trapping his arms against his body. He isn’t expecting that level of coordination from the pair. While he attempts to break free from Bolt’s grasp, she manages to land a few powerful punches to his head and stomach. He kicks at her again, but she anticipates the move and backs away from his foot. As she moves away, Lothar breaks free from Bolt and whirls to face him. The excitement of the fight is quickly fading and the pair is becoming an annoyance. With all of his attributes that the dragon enhanced, patience doesn't seem to be among them. He just wants to end this.

He launches himself at his opponent, landing numerous punches to vital areas before the Orc can react and defend himself. Bolt finally gets his arms up in front of himself to block the assault, so Lothar darts around to his side and attacks unprotected soft areas. The Orc collapses to his knees and Lothar wraps an arm around his large throat from behind, squeezing. Bolt struggles, but is unable to free himself. One of his hands bats at Lothar’s head over and over, but with his oxygen supply cut off, he quickly loses consciousness and sags against his attacker, the hand sliding away. Lothar lets go and steps back, dropping Bolt.

Before the Orc hits the ground, Lothar is knocked from his feet. He is bowled over by the female Orc when she unexpectedly crashes into his left side. The hand in his face had distracted him from her movements while he dealt with Bolt. Their bodies tumble through the dirt together until they roll apart. Lothar is the first to regain his feet and he pounces on her before she can get up, knocking her out with a single punch to the head. He pushes himself up from the ground and stands above her, looking down at her face.

The Voice in his head loudly demands that he kill her. While he fights the compulsion of Its command, his attention is drawn to the blood running from her nose and the cut on her cheek. He can feel the thing in his head focusing on it too and can tell that It would love nothing more than to kneel down and lick it off of her face. For a brief moment, Its desire to do so has him wanting to do it as well. When he realizes he is considering it, he tears his gaze away, disgusted at himself. He looks for Gul’dan in the gathered Orcs, wanting to see what the warlock’s reaction is going to be to his victory.

The knowing smirk he finds on Gul’dan’s face confuses him. Before he can figure out what information Gul’dan has that he doesn’t, his enhanced senses pick up on something coming at him rapidly from behind. Lothar turns, bringing his left arm up out of instinct, getting it between the heavy, descending club and his head. The weapon is wielded by the very first male Orc he had fought and knocked out. If he hadn’t been engrossed in the strange compulsion to taste the blood on the female’s face, there would have been plenty of time to react and properly defend himself.

His inattention costs him. The sturdy piece of wood smashes into his forearm, halfway between his elbow and his wrist. Despite their extra strength, the bone closest to his pinky finger breaks with a loud snap and the other cracks. His arm deflects the club enough to save him from another major head injury, but it is driven into his head with enough force that he is knocked sideways. Enhanced agility allows him to spin away from the Orc and avoid being taken down by the blow.

Yelling and cheering erupts from the crowd in support of his opponent's success. Bolstered by actually injuring the Human, the Orc advances again, his club raised and ready.

Lothar assumes a stance that protects the injured arm he has pulled against his body and waits for the right moment. He raises his upper right lip in a lopsided snarl, baring a fang at the Orc and then charges. His right shoulder drives into the Orc's stomach and he uses his strength to drive the Orc off of his feet and backwards. The Orc is knocked over onto its back and Lothar lands clumsily upon it as he can't use his left arm to help stop his fall. He is pushing himself up off of the torso of the Orc with his right arm as it starts to sit up.

Straddling its body, Lothar puts all of his considerable strength into a punch that lands in the middle of the Orc's throat, crushing it. The Orc falls backwards, trying desperately to breathe through its ruined airway. Lothar pushes himself off of the struggling Orc and climbs to his feet. He watches the Orc die. The Voice craves more. It's tasted violence and killing now and wants to continue. He turns to find Gul'dan in the crowd with every intention of moving on to him.

Lothar only manages a single predatory step towards the warlock when his body is suddenly frozen in place. He strains to move forward against the magic Gul'dan is restraining him with, but the controlled Fel in his veins prevents him from doing so.

\-----

Gul'dan is quite impressed with how quickly and viciously Lothar incapacitates his Orcs. He knows that the Human was a great warrior before, but after the changes the dragon made, he's probably one of the most lethal mortal humanoids on the planet. Next to himself, of course.

He is just about to send another Orc against the man, one of his best fighters, when Lothar lands the killing blow on the large male and Gul'dan decides not to chance losing any more of his camp.

Even from this distance he can feel the Fel coursing through Lothar, raging to be let loose. He hasn't felt anything like this from anyone else he's gifted the Fel to, by blood or magic. This makes it easier for him to reach out with his magic and stop the man in his tracks when he turns from the dying Orc and heads his way. The pure hatred on Lothar's face would worry Gul'dan if not for the fact that there is no one more adept at working with the Fel than he. Despite it actually being a small struggle to keep Lothar from advancing, he knows that the man will never reach him.

\-----

It takes a few seconds for Lothar to figure out why he can no longer move forward. The Voice is raging, drowning out his ability to think clearly. It's furious that someone is able to keep It trapped more than It already is. It's tearing into Lothar's brain as It angrily fights the magic holding him still. Lothar wants It to stop. He wants the Thing to calm down enough to work with him to get to Gul'dan instead of making things harder.

His head is splitting and his vision has gone a little fuzzy around the edges from the screeching between his ears. He just wants to take a step forward, and then another. He wants to snap Gul'dan's neck. The Thing in his head finally concedes that they want the same thing and puts Its energy into pushing against the trapping magic instead of uselessly raging.

It's like trying to push through a solid block of ice, but with their coordination, the ice thaws a little. Lothar manages to take a step. He sees shock and then angry determination flash across Gul'dan's features. The magic wrapping around and through him intensifies and it becomes impossible to move forward anymore. He doesn't stop trying though.

The strain that the struggle between the Fel magics is putting on his body causes his nose to start bleeding. His eyes are blazing green.

\-----

Gul'dan tells him to stop fighting or it won't end well. Garona doesn't translate, but no one notices this with everything else going on.

Lothar replies with a growled threat. “I will kill you.”

Questioning flashes across Gul'dan's face and is gone just as quickly.

One of the warlocks says to the other, “How can he speak…?”

“You will try,” Gul'dan responds to Lothar over the warlock's question. The words that Lothar spoke show Gul'dan that the demon blood has transferred more than just the Fel. Being the strongest warlock alive, he simply turns his magic to the demonic presence residing inside of Lothar and Banishes it. A temporary solution, but it prevents the being from being able to act against him for awhile.

When the strength the presence was adding to his fight against Gul'dan's magic is suddenly gone, the magic overwhelms Lothar and his body shuts down. His eyes roll back in his head and his body relaxes.

Gul'dan releases him from his magic, dropping the unconscious man to the ground.

Zerl steps up to Gul'dan and asks, “How can he speak the language of the demons? He is not a warlock.”

“An unpredicted side effect from the blood. There is one inside of him now. It was easy enough to control once I realized it was there,” Gul'dan explains. “The two of you should be able to use the demon to keep him under control,” he tells the warlocks. “This has worked out better than I could have expected.”

While sounding pleased about this outcome to those around him, Gul'dan wonders what Kil'jaeden is up to. Was this the reason that he'd been instructed to give him the blood? What sort of games might Kil'jaeden be playing? Wanting to appear to be in complete control of the situation, he voices none of those concerns out loud.

Gul'dan announces to the two warlocks that he will take Lothar with him to the stone portal in the morning, but for now, they will need to watch over the prisoner for awhile. They should have no trouble keeping Lothar in line using the demon, even with his enhancements. He is going to return to his tent to prepare for the trip in the morning.

As Gul'dan departs the area, almost all of the gathered Orcs wander off to their tents or remaining duties as the entertainment has finished. A few remain and build a fire to stay warm around, curious about what will happen when the prisoner awakes. Zerl offers to take the first watch out of the two warlocks and Garona stays as well.

 

* * *

 

Now that her hiding spot is no longer surrounded, Tabitha can finally sneak back out of the Orc camp safely. The news of what has happened needs to be sent along.

Arriving back at her small camp, she finds that a predator of some sort has discovered her cage of birds, despite her attempts at hiding them. All that remains is the broken cage, scattered feathers, a bit of blood, and some large paw prints. The message about Lothar will have to wait.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a medical professional, nor have I ever cut anyone’s back open to have a look around. Having only pictures of spines and basic high school physiology lessons to go off of, I’ve done my best in plotting out the way the dragon works with a spine. Any errors are mine. Any knowledge is gladly welcomed that would help improve any mistakes I may have made.
> 
> I've discovered a few small things that I need to go back and add into previous chapters. Nothing major, but it's stuff that will make this chapter a little smoother. So if you're reading this chapter and thinking, "Huh?" in a few places there's a good chance I've gone back to pre-explain what you're questioning. But.. I won't get to this until tomorrow. My eyelids will not stay open.


	18. Escape From New yOrc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With help from Garona and his metal dragon, Lothar recovers from the fight with the Orcs. The rescue team arrives. This is a very bland summary. It needs a little something... pepper perhaps?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are squeamish about broken bones, I would suggest skimming through the first bits without reading too intensely.
> 
> I have added the 'Star Wars: Rogue One' score to my music rotation. It's amazing to write to. Truly.

* * *

 

Lothar is leaning into Gul’dan’s magic when he passes out. Therefore, when the forces holding him in place disappear, he falls forward, landing on top of the broken arm he’d been holding guardedly across his body.

The moment Gul’dan is out of sight, Garona moves to Lothar’s side and squats beside his left shoulder. His head is turned towards her, disheveled hair blocking her view of his face. She gently pushes it out of the way. The extra heat his body is giving off is very noticeable to her fingertips this time as they brush against his skin. He mumbles something unintelligible at her touch and begins to stir.

“Can you hear me?” she asks him quietly.

He doesn’t say anything in reply, but he opens his eyes and looks in her direction. The broken arm underneath him twinges and he winces at the pain.

“I need to straighten your arm before it heals badly.”

Lothar’s brain is still running slowly from being fried into unconsciousness and he can’t put any words together, but he gives a tiny nod to let her know he understands.

She places a hand on his left upper arm, just below his shoulder. As gently as possible, she rolls him onto his back, doing her best to avoid jostling his arm. The fall didn’t help things any and one of the broken bones is now protruding through the skin. Dirt and grass have become embedded in the jagged end and blood is running freely from the torn flesh.

Garona tries not to let her reaction to the damage show on her face. She doesn’t want to alarm him as she needs him to remain calm while she takes care of him. “Stay,” she commands as she stands and hurries to collect what is needed to clean and stabilize the injury.

When she returns, he is lying exactly where she left him, staring blankly at the sky. She kneels beside his broken arm and tells him that she’s going to move it in order to clean the mess off of the bone before straightening it. His eyes move to hers and she takes this as understanding, if not approval.

Normally Garona would worry about infection setting in from this sort of injury. She’s seen Orcs die from it. Hoping that the dragon will continue healing anything thrown at it, she trusts it won’t be an issue. Gently grabbing hold of his forearm with both hands to support the break, she pulls his arm away from his chest where it has been resting.

His eyes follow what she is doing. Their bright glow from earlier is now just a slight glimmer, barely noticeable at all.

“This is going to hurt.” She rests his elbow on the ground and carefully lays his forearm against her thigh. His elbow near her knee, wrist towards her hip, palm down, the bone sticking out from the side of his arm facing the sky. Blood is barely leaking from the injury now and Garona knows that it’s a race against time to get everything cleaned and lined up properly so she doesn’t have to cause more damage to fix it.

As quickly as she can, she pulls the blades of grass from the end of the bone. As gently as she can, she brushes the loose dirt away with a scrap of cloth. Lothar lack of reaction to the pain she is no doubt causing him worries her.

She tries to rinse the rest of the dirt out of the end of the bone with water rather than scrub at it. Most of it comes loose and washes away, but a stubborn chunk remains lodged inside and is going to make realigning the arm difficult.

Garona warns him that she’s going to have to do something that is going to hurt quite a bit more. He nods slightly. Using the tip of her claw, she breaks up the stubborn soil that is packed into the interior of the bone. Once it is loose, she uses the remaining water to wash it out. Lothar finally reacts to what she is doing. An involuntary shudder runs through his body and his right hand’s fingers dig into the earth spasmodically. She has to call an end to her work even though there’s still a little bit that didn’t come free. She doesn’t want to hurt him more than she has to.

“Now I will straighten your arm,” she alerts him to what is coming next. Garona gently shifts his arm off of her leg and moves so that she can put her left knee on his upper arm, near his elbow, to give her the leverage she needs for the next step. Pulling on his wrist with one of her hands, stretching his forearm as far as the cracked bone will allow, she works the broken bone into his flesh and back where it should be.

Lothar groans when the two ends grate together. His breathing has become shallow and rapid during the last few minutes and Garona expects him to lose consciousness again at any moment, but for now he remains awake.

Over the years Garona has had to set many a broken Orc bone and she’s become quite adept at the process. Her experience allows her to properly align the bone with a minimal amount of manipulation. Once she’s happy with the results, she uses cloth strips to tie the sturdy sticks she’s gathered into a rudimentary splint to keep his arm as immobile as possible. It won’t have to last long based on how fast his other injuries have healed.

She carefully lays his arm down on the ground beside him. “I need to gather supplies. I will get you out of here… somehow.” Garona stands and backs away. His eyes follow. She finally turns and heads out of the area, feeling his eyes on her until a tent comes between them.

\-----

Garona makes it back to her small tent and gathers what they will need to escape. Nothing is more important to her than getting Lothar safely away from the Horde. With what he’s become, she can’t let them use him against his own people. She knows that Gul’dan will want to cause as much damage to the Alliance as possible with his new weapon.

Making sure not to be seen, Garona moves her gathered items to a storage tent near where their large wolves reside. Stopping to visit the animals on her way past, she gives her favorite a scratch between the ears. From there, Garona wanders around the camp a bit, scouting out the best way to sneak Lothar to the pen from where he currently is. As she creeps about, she does what she can to darken up some of the areas they will need to travel through later.

\-----

When Garona leaves, Lothar remains lying on the ground where she left him. He could make a run for it. This would be the perfect time to escape. Selfishly though, he wants her to come with him. There is no guarantee of safety for her here when news of Llane’s survival reaches Orc ears, so he waits.

Being able to feel his injuries healing faster than what should be possible unnerves Lothar. Sporadic, painful twinges spike through his arm as the bones knit back together rapidly.

For the first time since having the blood forced down his throat, his head is his alone. The other presence is silent at last. He can feel It at the edge of his mind, lying dormant. Not expecting the relief to last, he simply enjoys the small amount of peace in the middle of a really crummy day.

The clouds have cleared, the stars are twinkling, and one of Azeroth’s two moons is visible. The extra detail he can make out on its surface keeps his attention while he listens in on the Orcs around. They remain oblivious to the fact he can understand quite a bit of what they say as they chat around the nearby campfire. He learns more with every word they speak.

One of them asks another what he thinks Gul’dan will do with the Human. The Orc replies that he has heard that Gul’dan is planning on testing out his effectiveness on some nearby settlements. A third says that he’s heard the dragon magic is temporary, so whatever he’s going to do, he needs to do it quickly.

“I doubt we’ll get to see what happens. Gul’dan is taking the Human back to the Portal with him in the morning.” Something in the Orc’s voice lets Lothar know that she is a bit disappointed she won’t get to watch him used against his own people.

The first Orc replies, “If he is as deadly a weapon as everyone is making him out to be, I say Gul’dan should just return him to his city with orders to kill everyone. They would never see it coming and it would make our job easier.”

“Where’s the challenge in that? I prefer to meet the enemy with my own blade,” a male Orc counters.

Gossip and calm discussion turn towards argument with that statement.

Staying out of the conversation around him, Zerl stays warm by the fire while keeping an eye on the resting Human.

\-----

Lothar is pulled from the short nap he had no intention of taking when the demon in his head begins to stir. Its anger at having been temporarily neutralized floats like a storm cloud at the edge of his awareness.

Movement in the darkness near the perimeter of the camp catches his attention. He turns his head and easily spots Garona moving through the shadows to extinguish a torch before slipping away again. Not wanting to alert anyone nearby to her presence, he hastily returns his gaze to the sky.

Minutes later, the smell of cooked meat carries to him on a breeze. His mouth waters and his stomach demands to be filled. Lothar hasn’t eaten since dinner the night before and now that he’s been reminded of that, food is all he can think of.

He looks to the fire and sees that an arriving Orc has brought a cooked animal leg of some sort with him. Lothar guesses hyena or forest wolf from the size of it. Mindful of his splinted arm, he rolls to his feet.

Zerl and the Orcs around the fire stop their conversations and turn to look at him as he approaches. Unwilling to give up his language secret, he steps closer to the Orc with the food and points at the meat.

The Orc realizes that the Human is pointing at his dinner and laughs heartily.

Lothar points at it again and then points at himself.

The Orc laughs harder and tries to shoo the man away.

This is not the answer he is looking for. Before the Orc can react, Lothar uses his newly enhanced speed to step up to the Orc, remove the haunch from its large hand, and retreat to the opposite side of the fire. He knows that his actions are a bit foolish and instigating, but his changed body is demanding to be fed now that he’s been reminded of the need for it. His teeth sink into the juicy meat, his new fangs helping to easily tear chunks off. He barely chews in his hurry to get the warm food into his stomach.

Intent on getting its meal back, the Orc stands and heads towards the annoying Human.

Zerl watches the proceedings with interest, especially as he can only barely sense the demon that Gul’dan said would be there for him control.

Lothar stops eating and looks up at the Orc who now towers over him menacingly. His eyes flash a threatening green, warning the Orc of his intention of holding onto the meat.

The Orc next to Zerl reminds his friend of how handily the Human dispatched Brek’en less than an hour ago and recommends that he look for a different meal. The cook tent will have plenty more with a much lower chance of injury. The Orc in front of Lothar doesn’t want to back down from this puny thief, but his friend is right. He returns to his seat by the fire, empty handed for now.

Lothar quickly finishes off the animal leg. His stomach demands more, but he sees no one else he can threaten into giving him their food. What he’s eaten helps, but hunger still gnaws at him.

\-----

While Garona finishes with her preparation and sabotage, she witnesses the exchange between Lothar and the Orc from the shadows. Figuring that it will be beneficial to get more food for him, she decides to stop at the cook tent on her way back from one last task she still has to complete for her escape plan.

\-----

Lothar is considering how far he’ll be allowed to wander into the camp in order to find more food when Garona arrives, carrying a small wooden keg and a lumpy linen bag.

She walks over to the Orcs sitting around the fire and sets everything down so she can work on opening the keg. “We might as well enjoy ourselves while we keep an eye on the Human. Courtesy of yesterday’s raid,” Garona explains the keg’s origins. Her statement is met with sounds of approval.

Using a dagger and her strength, she quickly has the seal removed from the keg. While shielding her actions from those nearby with her body, she drops a powdery substance into the newly opened keg. Once that is done, Garona turns to the bag she brought and removes several drinking horns from it. Soon there is drink in every Orc hand except Zerl’s. He declines her offer.

Grabbing the bag from the ground, she moves near to Lothar before sitting down and pulling out a sizable chunk of recently cooked animal wrapped is a protective scrap of cloth. He practically rips it out of her hand when she offers it to him, tearing into it before he’s fully seated again. A thank you is aimed at her between bites. She gives him a quick smile in return.

“Did you bring more of that with you?” the voice of the Orc Lothar stole from carries across the fire, alluding to the meat that is quickly being devoured.

Climbing to her feet, she doesn’t let on that she saw what happened to the Orc’s first meal. “I did. Would you like some?” An affirmative nod and a grunt is the only reply she gets. Not all of the Orcs have fully accepted that she’s more than just a servant now. Garona pulls another hunk of meat from her bag and takes it to the Orc who doesn’t thank her for it.

When she sits down near Lothar again, he asks her what she did to the ale. She’s surprised he saw her do it. “I found a book in a village we raided that explained the uses of local plants. I am testing out its claims that dried Purple Lotus, even in small amounts, puts people to sleep. There is now more than a little bit of it in the ale.

“I can assure you the book is accurate. I suppose that means I won’t be getting any to wash down the rest of dinner.”

“You would be correct. I need you as alert as possible when the time comes…”

Zerl interrupts, asking what she is talking about with the Human. Garona explains that he was complaining about not getting any ale and she was telling him he didn’t deserve any. “I also asked how his injuries are healing.” The warlock seems content with her answer for now.

She turns back to Lothar and tells him to be prepared to follow her quickly when she tells him to.

“Will that be soon?”

“Sometime after the herb does its work. I do not want anyone seeing us leave. We may have to deal with the warlock as he did not drink any.” She wants to give him more details, but she doesn’t want to draw any more attention from the Orcs with more conversation.

Garona stands and moves to sit on the log next to Orc she fed. She has most of the surrounding Orcs sucked into a discussion on the finer points of wolf training in no time at all.

Lothar learns more on the subject than he ever thought he would while he devours his second course.

Just as Garona is asking for their opinion on what the best method is for weaning the pups from their mothers, one of the Orcs yawns. As a yawn is likely to do, it spreads. Soon most of the Orcs are leaving the fire and heading for their tents.

With her plan falling into place, Garona moves to Zerl’s side. She knows that he won’t want to talk about wolves, so she brings up a topic he should be interested in. “How is it that Gul’dan could hold the Human in place as he did?”

He has always had a soft spot for Garona and he knows that she is naturally curious about everything, so he doesn’t consider there might be an ulterior motive behind her question. Zerl explains to her that Gul’dan alone could manage that trick because he can control the Fel in a way that none of the rest of them can. His explanation continues with information about how the warlocks will be able to contain the Human through a different method. Zerl tells her how the blood has transferred a demonic presence into the man along with the physical changes it made. He also admits that the strength and hardiness the dragon passed along to Lothar impresses him.

Garona keeps chatting with Zerl as she waits for the right time to strike. Any information she can craftily pry out of him could help aid in their escape.

Lothar continues listening in while pretending to pay no attention at all.

 

* * *

 

Midnight has almost arrived by the time Khadgar finally awakens. He is immediately hounded by the healer, Christopher, who has remained with him. The poor fellow appears desperate for something to do after spending most of the day in a cave with a sleeping mage and the bodies of the Stormwind soldiers.

The spells of healing from the other man and hours of rest have helped Khadgar recover from his overuse of potions. Other than a slight headache and a low mana reserve, he’s almost back to normal.

Once Christopher is satisfied that Khadgar hasn’t done any irreparable damage to himself, he gives the young mage a clean bill of health and states his desire to get back to Stormwind as quickly as possible.

Khadgar agrees with the man and is about to draw the runes that will form the portal home when a soft trumpeting noise sounds outside the cave.

“I was just about to tell you… Lieutenant Commander Karos said we could use the gryphon to fly home if you were too weakened to make a portal,” the healer explains.

“That would probably be for the best. Even the thought of making another portal right now makes me feel a little ill.” Khadgar makes a mental note to thank Lothar’s second in command for his thoughtfulness the next time he sees him.

It is dark outside so Khadgar speaks a ball of light into existence and holds it in the palm of his hand as they exit the cave. The illumination it provides allows them to see that the gryphon is happily munching on some unfortunate local wildlife, and that there is a messenger bird calmly perched upon its back.

Khadgar hasn’t been around gryphons long enough to lose his slight fear of them, and he approaches this one timidly. It takes a break from tearing the small animal apart to watch him move closer. Khadgar manages to make it to the bird and retrieve the message from its leg without being torn to shreds as he was afraid might happen. He knows people ride these things every day, but they make him nervous.

All thoughts of returning home are forgotten when he reads about what happened to Jyhan and Trinda. It is obvious that Gul’dan is doing something wrong in the activation process of the dragons.

Enough time has passed since these messages were sent along to him that there’s a good chance Lothar has already met the same fate. Choosing to believe otherwise, he decides his friend is still alive until someone tells him differently.

Once informed of what has occurred, Christopher agrees that they should head to the rogue’s camp to meet up with the soldiers as soon as possible in case they can be of use.

Khadgar reattaches the messages to the bird’s leg and sends it along to Stormwind to let the King know what has happened. He tells the gryphon to take them to Tabitha after he and the healer climb onto the beast.

 

* * *

 

Karos and his men finally arrive at Tabitha’s camp. The rogue fills them in on what has happened since her last message. She explains that Gul’dan was successful in getting the dragon to work on the Commander after forcing him to drink a glowing, green liquid. She had been far enough away that she couldn’t hear what Gul’dan had said about the substance over the noise of the crowd of Orcs, so she doesn’t know what it was.

Her information about Gul’dan having some power over Lothar concerns Karos. He is especially troubled when she describes how easy it was for Lothar to defeat three Orcs without so much as a weapon. Their rescue team may end up requiring a rescue team of their own if the Commander is no longer in control of himself.

Tabitha continues by telling Karos that Garona appears to be taking care of Lothar’s injuries, that Gul’dan has moved on to a different section of the camp, and that several Orcs seem to be guarding Lothar.

Based on the information the rogue shared, plans are discussed and a course of action is decided upon.

 

* * *

 

Khadgar and Christopher plummet unexpectedly into the rogue’s camp just after Tabitha and five soldiers leave for the Orc’s encampment.

The gryphon seems to be quite proud of the maneuver it pulled off to land safely in such a small clearing that is filled with people. The two men climbing from its back don’t seem to be as thrilled with the near vertical drop they just experienced. The healer takes a few steps away from the beast and ends up on the ground when his shaking legs give out. Khadgar barely avoids joining him.

Karos greets the two men, inquires after Khadgar’s health, and thanks Christopher for taking care of the mage while helping the man back to his feet.

After a quick thank you for leaving the gryphon behind, Khadgar anxiously asks if there is any news about Lothar. Karos’ answer is both better than he’d hoped for and worse than he expected at the same time. “At least he’s alive.”

The party’s leader agrees with Khadgar’s statement and then fills the newcomers in on the rescue plans.

 

* * *

 

Ms. Caldwell leads a small group of stealthed soldiers through the Orc camp. When Karos' men were asked if any of them had any training in the rogue skill, only these five raised their hands.

They approach the last grouping of tents before the clearing Lothar was last seen in. Despite the soldiers’ lack of expertise in the rogue-ish ways, they’ve remained undetected so far.

Tabitha has had to dispatch a small number of Orcs along the way to keep the men undiscovered. She would prefer to have had more time to do a better job stashing the bodies, but they did what they could before moving along.

Just as the last tent blocking her view of the area she left Lothar in is about to no longer be an impediment, a loud Orc voice breaks through the quiet noise of the camp behind them. The rogue can’t tell what he’s yelling, but the odds are good that one of the bodies has been discovered.

Sleeping Orcs are roused and the camp returns to life. The difficulty of the rescue effort increases substantially as the inhabitants of the tents pour out into the pathways to see what the commotion is about.

Knowing that the men with her will not survive in open combat against this many Orcs, Tabitha has them hide in the shadows of the surrounding tents while she watches for an opportunity to continue moving safely.

 

* * *

 

“Intruders!” an Orc voice yells from somewhere in the mass of tents.

Zerl stands, looking in the direction of the shout, preparing to defend against possible attack.

Although the commotion is not of her doing, Garona takes advantage of it and lets Lothar know the time has come. He climbs to his feet and looks to her for their next step.

The warlock incorrectly assumes that she was informing the prisoner that the camp is under attack and is not expecting the treachery that comes next.

Garona pulls a dagger from her belt and drives it upwards into Zerl’s back. The blade slides between his ribs and sinks deeply into his heart. He drops like a sack of Runn Tum Tubers, instantly dead. Her dagger is pulled from her hand by his falling corpse.

“Follow me!” Her words are the only warning Lothar has before she darts towards the tents. He chases after, following her along the path he saw her darkening earlier.

Lothar isn’t even breathing hard when they arrive at the tent their supplies have been stashed in. Before the dragon’s enhancements, the mad dash through the edge of the camp would have left him gasping for air despite being in decent shape.

He follows her into the tent and is happy to discover his shirt and coat among the supplies she has gathered. While she takes what she can carry out to the wolves, he manages to get his shirt on even with the splint on his arm. His coat is another story. The sleeve fits too tightly over the bulk of the sticks and he decides against wearing the layer.

Garona returns to grab the last of the supplies and she leads him out to the wolves. There are four of the furry beasts, including the one she considers hers. She watches Lothar warily follow her into the midst of them.

One of the wolves moves closer to sniff at the unfamiliar intruder and then quietly growls in his direction. Lothar knows better to show weakness in this situation and bares his teeth in a silent snarl at the wolf, maintaining eye contact the whole time. It worked for him last time he faced off with one of the large predators, so he tries it again.

Garona silences the wolf with a single hand motion before things can escalate and draw attention to their escape. She then returns to tying the rest of the supplies and Lothar’s coat onto the leather harness she has strapped onto her wolf. Once everything is securely fastened, Garona instructs him to climb on.

He moves to the wolf’s left side and sinks the fingers of his right hand into the fur on its back. Garona’s offered assistance in the form of a platform made out of interlaced fingers helps boost him up onto its back. Once he’s on, she moves around to the other side and Lothar uses his uninjured arm to pull her up and onto the wolf in front of him.

Her hand reaches back and grabs his right hand, pulling his arm forward and wrapping it around her waist. Lothar pulls himself tightly against her back, enjoying the feel of her strong body against his again. The moment is short lived though as she quietly commands the wolf to run.

Following her orders, it charges forward into the surrounding trees. Lothar’s secure hold on Garona barely keeps him from falling off their mount as it tears through the forest, heading away from the camp.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (6/6/17: I guess the story is technically on a temporary hold. I started writing a side story based in the same splinter universe that this story is set in and fell in love with that story and its characters. Every time I sit down to get through the next chapter in this one, I open that one back up. I will get back to this because I still love this story, but I really have to get the other story out first. Or at least the start of it.)
> 
> (3/28/17: I'm writing again! Sat down overnight and got the beginnings of the next chapter down. Hopefully I will have a full chapter posted in the next few days. Woo!)
> 
> (2/11/17: I haven't abandoned this. Really poor sleep, real life, and a second story idea have stolen my attention for the time being. Once I get a little bit more of the other story down on paper I'm coming right back to this one.)
> 
> Oh dear goodness... I'm re-reading this now that I've posted it and I think I've set a record for the amount of teeny tiny paragraphs I used. /hangshead
> 
> Since discovering the concept drawing of Garona for Warcraft by Wei Wang, his imagining of her has completely replaced Paula Patton in my mind. The face reminds me quite a bit of Milla Jovovich and I am wondering if he used her as a model for the drawing. Y'all can keep using Patton's Garona when you imagine the story in your mind, but this (https://www.flickr.com/photos/trooberger/32258774852/in/dateposted-public/) is my Garona now. I can't go back. Not sorry at all.
> 
> Yes.. I drew crappy clothing on his wonderful drawing. It was my attempt at trying to figure out what she'd be wearing and to cover up the fact that the original drawing is graphically naked. I'm impressed that it turned out as well as it did for my utter lack of artistic skills, but it could have been much better. Imagine the outfit was made by a high end leatherworker/armorer, and doesn't look like cheap, flimsy workout clothing/football pants. Those ivory colored bits are are the toggles made out of bone that are holding the top securely fastened. You will read about them later if you don't skip the skippable chapters. The color of the leather would accentuate her skin tone better as well. Oh well.. maybe next time. :D


End file.
